Team spirit
by ragabeubeu
Summary: Sets during the beggining of season 4, only Kellerman's a member of their little team, and Michael and Sara kind of drift away, and Sara's gonna find comfort in an unexpected friend. Warnings: Ke/Sa fic, slurs and angst.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey ! I know it's been a while since I wrote anything, but I just had this idea in mind ! Hope you'll enjoy it and leave a review ! Your opinion is always welcomed ! _

…

When he walked into the warehouse, and faced her for the first time since he had saved her life in court, Paul Kellerman suddenly remembered of the first time he saw Sara Tancredi. In his car, with tinted windows, only slightly opened, through the material of his dark sunglasses. She was just walking down the street, her face hidden from him, until a welcomed blast of wind went to tousle her silky hair, she turned around and he only caught a glimpse of her face before she left his sight, she wouldn't remember this, for the simple reason that she hadn't seen him then, she hadn't met him until much later, but he would remember, he would remember everything, the dark black shirt she was wearing and the way it embraced her curves, the wind blowing in her flaming auburn hair, and her scent carried by the wind only to fly to his nostrils and fill them entirely, until Sara Tancredi was all he could breathe.

He was about 90 per cent sure that the emotions he felt for her weren't love, perhaps if he had known what love was he would have had a clearer idea, but his only sight of love for the moment was Caroline Reynolds, and if they had been in love, long ago, now it was more of an eternal battle for control, for domination, and that was why he was pretty sure the feelings he had for Sara Tancredi couldn't be love, because he wasn't even slightly aware that love could make a person happy. So he didn't consider it as love, he considered it as simple want, desire, because she intrigued him, because she would never want him and because he would never have her. And how he wish he could, have her, just once, so he could finally get her out of his system, get her out of his brain, get her out of his bloodstream that she had even gotten into.

But as he looked at her this time, he could clearly see that she would hate him as long as he would live. Of course she was hiding it, she knew that she had to contain her own emotions right now, Paul absently wondered how far politeness can go, but he was too busy studying her emotions to go further in the interrogation. It was so obvious, oh yes, she hated him, despised him with all of her being, and he could guess how much she had to hate the situation right now. But it wasn't up to her boyfriend anymore, or his brother, or her. So she'd deal with it, her own way, masking her emotions as well as she could. Oh well... if she could hide them, maybe he could too.

"It's nice to see you again, Sara" He said as professionally as possible, after saluting the rest of the team the same way.

Sara looked down at the hand he was extending. It was a peace offering, she knew it was, but to her it looked like a trick, it looked like a big bad wolf who had dipped his paws into flour to hide his true colors, and if she took the hand he was offering, than she was the stupid lamb who was going to get eaten. She looked behind her shoulder to meet Michael's eyes, the mere thought that he was right behind her was already enough for her to feel safer, he smiled weakly at her, but she was unable to smile back, so he simply, lightly, nodded. Sara turned back at Paul and slid her hand in his to shake it briefly and remove it quickly, thinking that she was going to have to wash them twice after that.

Paul couldn't hold back a smile, as he thought in a corner of his mind that even though she probably hated his guts, at least she respected him slightly, maybe because he was going to help her boyfriend and his brother to get exonerated, or maybe because he had saved her life in court. Or maybe that last one was just another reason to hate him even more.

...

"You know it's only a matter of weeks." Michael whispered.

Sara didn't answer, her eyes were wide open, her head resting on her boyfriend's chest, as he peacefully slid his fingers through her soft hair in a calming motion.

"In two, or three weeks," Michael pursued, "all of this will be behind us."

Sara lift up her head a little bit just so she could look at him.

"You really think that ?" She asked, "That we can get Scylla and bring down the company ? I mean it just sounds so..."

She shook her head, unable to find comparisons.

"I know" Michael said, "It sounds impossible, but we're not alone on this, I mean we have a whole team here, even though I don't like him, Kellerman's a good asset, he worked with them, with the company, he can make himself useful."

"I guess." Sara said after a while of silence, as she let her head rest on Michael's chest again, as he entwined his fingers in her hair one more time, making her feel strangely peaceful. "It's just..." Sara said, "I... I don't like this."

"You think I do ?" Michael said softly, "Sara, I hate this, I hate that we have to work with these people, with this guy, I'd like to strangle him until he chokes to death, but I know we have to be smarter about this."

He smiled warmly. "Because if we stand through this," He said, "in a few weeks, a month top, we'll be together, on a beach, drinking cheap beers, with a big cloudless sky and years and years to live."

Sara smiled lightly at the description.

"And even though I'd like to kill this guy, Sara," Michael said, "I think I want this life even more."

"I think I do too" Sara said, her eyes closing slowly, as she felt tiredness win her over. "Are you staying tonight ?" She asked.

"I'd love to" He said, "But I got some work to do."

He posed a tender kiss on her cheek before he reluctantly broke their embrace. He got up, and put his clothes on.

"I love you" He said with one last look on her.

"I love you too." She said smiling lightly as he left her alone in the boat cabin.

She felt a strange feeling overwhelm her once she was alone. This team, this whole place, it just felt so... unreal. But again, _**life**_ with Michael Scofield felt unreal, she should be used to it by the time, but... this ? Being here, it felt so... big. Her eyes remained wide open for a while until she shook her head, shaking the idea out of her mind, as she snuggled against herself, hugging the covers close, her head sinking in the soft pillow. She was hoping that maybe, if he finished early, Michael would be back before morning. He had been sharing her bed for a week now, but he had never stayed the night or been there when she awoke. Absently, she wondered if, in their future life he kept promising her, it'd be the same, if he would stay working late at night, and she'd find herself alone in their bed.

She didn't want to think like this, and she shouldn't, but as long as she had known him, Michael Scofield had promised her that things would get better "after". After what ? Oh so many things, after she'd leave the door open, after they'd be out of prison, after the company would be off their backs, and now it was after they had find six Scylla cards that could be the end of all their troubles. Only, every time Michael had said this to her, things had only got worse, after she did whatever it was he had asked.

But she guessed, that deep down, she didn't care, not enough anyway, because if she did, she would have left, long ago, so maybe their problems weren't that big. Or maybe her blind love for him was just bigger. Big enough for her to stand to work with her former torturer, that was for sure.

She really shouldn't resent Michael for this, after all, it wasn't his fault, it wasn't his call, but she guessed maybe, deep down, she was hoping he'd get all macho and manlike and yelled that if that bastard wasn't off the team he'd quit. But that wasn't his type, she knew it, he knew better, he was smarter than this. But still, maybe secretly, she had hoped for this in a corner of her mind, even though even she knew that having Kellerman on the team really _was_ a good asset. He could be useful, she didn't doubt that, it was just that... he was like a wolf, no, more like a snake, every word coming out of his mouth was a lie, a vice, every smile he made was enough to send shivers down her spine, and his eyes on her were like... like... she couldn't even put a name on it. And even though she knew that there was nothing that could be done, that Kellerman would indeed stay here, she would have wanted Michael to try, she would have wanted him to freak out and not be able to concentrate when standing next to that man. But she knew that even though Michael loved her, as much as he was capable of loving, she knew he didn't love in _that_ kind of love, the kind that says "you hurt her and that's the last thing you ever do", he wouldn't ever kill someone who had hurt her, not because he didn't love her enough for it, just because it wasn't who he was.

And then suddenly, so oddly that it made Sara's eyes that had started to close open wide and aware, she wondered if Paul Kellerman would ever kill someone for her, someone that had hurt her. _Of course not, why would he ?_ But Sara suddenly found herself thinking that somehow, he wouldn't want her to get hurt, not because of love, but possessively, he had hurt her himself, but if someone else ever did he'd put a bullet in their brain.

And just like that, Sara realized how it was, that Paul Kellerman looked at her : As if she was his.

...

Sara was awake long before the sun was up. She hadn't yet gotten used to the fact that you could hear everything that happened in that warehouse, everything anybody did. She suddenly felt herself panic as she wondered if maybe the rest of the team had heard her and Michael last night, they weren't _very_ loud, but still... As she heard someone cough from the second floor, she concluded that they probably had. Her cheeks flushed red, great, that was really all she needed right now, that a bunch of ex cons and spies whom she would have to team with for the next few weeks, heard her having sex. She decided that Michael and her would have to be more careful from now on.

She tried to get up several times, but she really wasn't in the mood to face "the team", especially after what they might have heard last night, and also, she was kind of letting Michael a chance to join her. She waited until eight to get up, he wasn't coming and she was done waiting. She put some clothes on, before getting down from the boat, and out of the room, only to find Michael buried in maps, and tons of paper, his fist against his forehead, he was obviously, very concentrated.

"Morning" She whispered behind him, snaking her arms around his chest.

"Morning" He responded with a quick look towards her and the shadow of a smile.

"Guess you really do have a lot of work" She said only to say something, "Aren't the others up yet ?"

"They worked till late last night." Michael answered.

"So did you" She noticed and he didn't reply. "So..." She said, "I was going to go get some coffee down the street, you want one ?"

"Sure" He answered without turning to her this time, "Thanks."

"You're welcome" She said in almost a whisper as she let her hands fall to her sides, and walked away, and out the exit door.

It was a sunny day, although there were very few days that weren't sunny in Miami, this day announced itself quite exceptional. She'd have to wait and see.

Sara walked down the street, and went inside a café, she ordered twelve drinks, thinking after a little consideration that she might as well take some for everyone in the team. She kind of regretted it afterwards, because she didn't like the idea of being the only woman in the team, who is only here to sleep with the leader and make the coffees. It was way too cliché.

When she went back to the warehouse everyone was already up, and working on the same files Michael had been studying the same morning. Sara spotted Paul in a corner of the room, a file in his hands, and she knew that she could never even pretend to be indifferent to his presence. He suddenly looked up from his paper to meet her eyes and she looked away immediately, putting the coffees on the table.

"Hey guys" She said trying to put on a smile, "I brought coffee." If she was going to play this role she was at least going to play it right.

"Thanks, baby" Michael said smiling genuinely as he looked back at her, brushing her shoulder with his hand, in what was meant to be an affectionate gesture, but looked more like a man petting his dog. He seemed to realize it as guilty look flashed on his face, so he placed a kiss on her cheek in a silent apology. _I'm sorry I didn't stay the night_. She smiled weakly, before their moment was gone and he grabbed a coffee and went back to work.

She threw a glance at the paperwork, but it didn't take much studying to know for sure that she couldn't help, not with this, the only help she could provide was when they needed a distraction, for a guard or something, then they could use her feminine assistance. Wow, she really was starting to sound like a stereotype.

As she mumbled some excuse about getting some air, she threw one last look towards Kellerman, and she was surprised to see that he was looking at her too, this time she didn't lower her eyes. For the first time, since she had looked at him, there was no mockery, nor struggle for control, nor lie in this man's eyes, and for the first time, it occurred to her that maybe, _**maybe**_, behind the wolf, or the snake, or whatever the animal inside him was, Paul Kellerman was human, and had a conscience, some humanity, and a soul.

She was the first one to look away, she didn't know how much longer his eyes remained on her, or even stayed watching the exact same spot minutes after she was gone.

It turned out there was still one thing Sara hadn't seen in him that morning, something she couldn't see, something she couldn't even conceive. That beyond having committed crimes that should have deserved death penalty, beyond having a darken soul and some blood on his hands, he also had a heart.

Only it wasn't beating yet.


	2. Tears and rain

**Before I forget I don't own Prison Break, this fic is purely made for fun ! Enjoy and leave a review !**

...

As Paul Kellerman lied on his bed, eyes closed, but wide awake, he exhaled deeply before deciding that, considering all of the physical pain he had ever been through, there was no worse torture than what he was enduring right now.

It wasn't as if he was actually trying to listen, it was actually quite the opposite, only he could hear pretty clearly everything that was happening downstairs, in the room just below his. He didn't know if Sara or Michael were aware that probably everyone in this warehouse were now filled in on the current state of their relationship, but he could only assume they hadn't yet realized how thin the walls were in this place. Either that, or they didn't care that everyone in the team, including himself, could hear them having sex. No, probably not, he couldn't picture this being Sara's type, she probably didn't know.

As a gentleman and protecting her honor, he should warn her about it not later than the following morning, only he didn't exactly know how to bring it up without sounding like a jerk.

Turning around in his bunk for the umpteenth time, trying vainly to find some comfort, he thought that this was probably the most ridiculous situation he had ever been in. He was Paul Kellerman, he was anything _**but**_ jealous, and here he was, teeth gritted, unable to find sleep, pissed off beyond belief and honestly kind of turned on, while the girl he would pretty much do everything for was down stairs having sex with the guy he was now positively sure he hated.

Life wasn't fair, if it was fair, the slightest bit, then Paul Kellerman would have known, from the first time he saw her, that Sara Tancredi would not be out of his head soon enough, then instead of playing gay -only so he could remind himself not to do anything sloppy or stupid because the mission came first while telling himself that the constant want for her would fade soon enough- he would have done something about it, and if he had, she would be out of his brain right now, and so, now, when hearing the noises coming from her room, instead of a frustrated expression he would wear a content smirk because he would think with satisfaction that he had had her first.

But he didn't know that months later, she still wouldn't be out of his brain, of course not, how could she? He knew what he wanted, and when he did he always found a way to have it, it had been that way since he was a kid, how could he have been so naïve to think that he would be able to forget the only thing that he now wanted more than anything but could never have?

He felt an ounce of relief as the noises below him got quieter, and slowly faded. Soon after that he heard Sara's door close and footsteps in the main room. Hum, interesting, he had never suspected Scofield to be the kind to do his thing and leave the girl alone in bed, especially _**that**_ girl. Well maybe they had more in common than Scofield liked to admit. Even with that thought, he didn't manage to grin.

He changed position once more, flipping over on his back, his eyes staring at the ceiling. He knew he couldn't find sleep, and even if he did, he wasn't sure he wanted to sleep at all, knowing what his dreams would be occupied by, not that his dreams about her weren't pleasant, on the contrary, only waking up was the hard part.

He finally closed his eyes, decided to get some rest after all, when, below him, he heard Sara turn in her own bunk. The thought brought a slight, almost invisible smile on his lips. Even though they were probably different thoughts, he was pretty sure she was thinking about him, he would even bet he was in every conversation her and Scofield had, maybe they were even fighting about him. As he acknowledged the fact that it was twisted and a little miserable to take pleasure in this, he heard her bunk squeak again, and he thought that maybe, it was as difficult for her to find sleep than it was for him. He had never thought the idea of being alone in a bed as something sad, he knew most women did, but he had never, actually, he started to realized that he had never spend the whole night in a girl's bed, never felt the urge to do so either, but the idea wouldn't leave his head, and soon he started picturing sleeping in _her_ bed, and spending the night, and eating breakfast the next morning, reading the news together...

He didn't like where these thoughts were going, the most often his thoughts about Sara weren't exactly honorable, but he didn't mind these fantasies, the ones that actually disturbed him were the ones that weren't about sex, or something similar, the ones that were actually about what couple life could be. These ones, he was scared of, and what scared him even more was that these fantasies happened more and more often and there was absolutely nothing he could do, to get them out of his head.

...

The next morning he was up early, of course, since he hadn't slept all night. After taking a shower, he headed for the kitchen, searching for some coffee.

"There isn't any."

Paul turned around to face Michael, a file in hand.

"A shame" He simply answered knowing that he would always be on his defensive with this guy, "We really could use some."

"Yeah" Michael said obviously on his defensive too, "Well Sara went out to get some."

Paul, nodded, strangely discovering that he had to control his emotions to the simple mention of her name.

"Well I don't think I'll be entitled to some." He said joking while Michael remained very serious.

"She's not like that, you know" Michael simply said, "She won't let her emotions towards you make any waves, in fact she won't even let it show."

"Emotions?" Kellerman echoed before he chuckled, "You know you don't need to be delicate about it, I'm pretty much aware about how she feels."

"I don't think you have the slightest idea" Michael answered still very calm.

Paul greatly admired Michael for that : keep his calm, he used to be very good at it himself, everything he did was controlled and measured, no matter if hell was breaking loose in his head, but now that had changed. He remembered the first time he had lost his temper, the first time his feelings had crossed the limit between what he felt and what he let believe he felt, when he was on the phone with Bill Kim, and he had suddenly insinuated that Sara Tancredi was causing problems, there, he had lost it, briefly, but he had, because he knew what happened to those who caused problems.

The second time was different, stronger too, it was in a small motel room, in Gila, New Mexico, right after one of Kim's order, Sara had indeed been causing problems, and now she was refusing to admit the only thing that could save her life, the orders were now to execute her, he understood that, and most of the time he didn't have a problem with it, but this time it made him more angry than he could describe, after vainly trying to calm down in the bedroom, he had stormed in the bathroom, where she was soaked, tied up to a chair, and trembling from the electric shocks he had been inflicting to her. At first he succeeded, to sound calm, when he told her that this was it, now or never, that this was her last option, but then something made him lose his temper, the fact that _she_ should be freaking out, not him, and that _she_ -and he didn't know how- was completely calm as she said that she knew she would die anyway. Then he started yelling at her, that she was stupid, a complete idiot, and what fool would die for a reason shedoesn't even know, and he yelled and she kept calm, he yelled only so she would wake up and realize how serious this was, but she wouldn't, she kept calm, she didn't cry, most of them did at this point, and then, he grabbed her neck, the back of her head, tried to push her in the water one last time but he couldn't, he stopped right above the surface of the water, now she was scared, but he's confident he was even more scared than she was, but instead of doing something about it he blamed her one more time and pushed her in.

And then... everything was suddenly back to calm, quiet. Empty.

And now something else was threatening to make him lose it again, the fact that damn Michael Scofield could keep cool, even when it came to her, that he was able to remain calm when it concerned her, when himself, was unable to even pretend to be.

Paul cleared his throat, before looking at the young man right in the eyes again.

"I know more than you think" He finally said.

If Michael was about to say something, he was interrupted by the door exit door opening. Michael didn't add one more word before he turned away, and went back to the main room, back to work.

Paul didn't move, until he heard Sara coming in, and he walked back to the main room, carelessly grabbing a file, trying to pay attention to it but failing to do so, instead he looked up and was surprised to meet her eyes. She looked away quickly, rearranging her hair nervously before she put the coffees on the table.

"Hey guys, I brought coffee" She announced, and he suspected that it was just so maybe Michael would acknowledge her presence. He turned to her and thanked her quickly, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, and going back to work.

Sara wasn't looking at him anymore now, which was fortunate because then he didn't need to be discrete as he studied her moves, he watched her glance at the work her boyfriend was focused on, before she looked away, a bit disappointed that she couldn't be of much help, she was probably wondering what the hell she was even doing here, bringing coffees for wanted felons, with a boyfriend that didn't pay much attention to her, while they were working on a plan to bring down the company, an association she wouldn't even be involved in, if it wasn't for him.

She mumbled some excuse to leave before she threw what was meant a quick glance toward him, but she seemed surprised to see he was looking at her and she didn't look away. And suddenly, the room around them disappeared, all the bunch of cons doing paper work, the boyfriend whose eyes weren't even slightly directed to his girl, the whole thing. And just like that, it was like the rest of the world had disappeared, for him anyway. Then she looked away, as if she had just realized she was staring at him and disappeared out the door.

He wasn't exactly sure why, but not a second later he was following.

...

Sara walked right outside, before she sat on the edge of the wall, separating her from the water. She nervously ran her hand through her long smooth auburn hair that scattered on her shoulders, reaching her chest in a soft curtain of silk, her eyes were fixed on the floor, before she ultimately looked up and they set on the ocean.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

She hard to turn around to the mere sound of his voice. No, never ever could she ever be indifferent to his presence, no matter how much more simple it would be, it was just impossible, she didn't know if it was the effect he had on her in particular, or if anyone felt the same around him, but it was like, when he entered a place, he owned it, and everything in it, and suddenly, the 'backyard' of the warehouse wasn't filled with boats, or water, the second he entered, it was filled with him.

"Hard to say" She responded not letting him out of his sight, because he wasn't the kind of man you're comfortable turning your back to, "It's only morning." She finished.

"Well" Paul said using a light tone, "There are some things you can predict."

"And there are some things you can't" She replied still not allowing him to leave her sight.

She didn't know Michael did it, to stand to be around people who get to you in the most profound depths of your soul. He had once told her that Abruzzi was the responsible for the loss of his toes, and yet he had let him in the team, in spite of the torture he had inflicted him, and the thing was he seemed to be okay with it, she just couldn't imagine herself ever being _comfortable_ with Paul Kellerman, not exactly because of fear, or resent even, it wasn't like that, it was just... it was just in her guts, deep inside her, he could never be somewhere in a corner of the room without her eyes being drawn to him.

He was still here, though, merely smiling at her comment, or maybe at the way she was looking at him. He wasn't the man from the motel room in Gila anymore, she knew that, and he wasn't Lance either, he was some kind of in between she couldn't put a name on, not a friend, definitely no further, not an enemy either, someone she was confident not to know though he wasn't a stranger. Some things, you just can't name.

"Can I sit?" He asked very politely, obviously more able to deal with the awkwardness of this whole thing than she was.

"Does it look like the seat is taken?" She replied.

She had tried to aim for a joke-light tone, but she couldn't quite reach it as it reminded her of when he -Lance- had sat with her on the steps of the church after their AA meeting, she was still glad it didn't sound friendly, but not exactly upset or angry either, only a little bitter, even though she was trying to hide it.

He took her answer for a "yes" and he sat next to her, his eyes first set on the sea, along with hers, before he turned to her. She could feel his eyes on her but she didn't look back at him.

"We should talk, you know." He said.

"I don't see why we would." She said honest, but it sounded like a lie.

"I just don't want there to be any confusion, Sara." He said and she suddenly looked at him because she against herself she wanted to yell at him that she hadn't given him the permission to say her name. Okay, maybe there were some issues to deal with.

"No confusions" She answered coldly, still looking at him, "I get it, you're here to help."

"That's not what I was talking about" He said "I just want it to be clear that what happened in New Mexico had nothing personal." It sounds wrong because he said it so many times, "It was a job, nothing more."

"No confusions on that either" She replied a little sharp now, "I get that it wasn't personal, I'm smart enough to know that you didn't torture me because you didn't like my cooking."

"I love your cooking" He couldn't help but say and she was torn between pushing him in the water or simply laughing, because, to say the truth, the situation really was getting a little ridiculous. Instead, she shook her head, in incomprehension and a little disgust -because it would snow in hell the day he would ever make her laugh again- before looking back at the ocean.

"Sara?" He said again, maybe because he had realized that when he said her name it made her angry enough to pay attention to him, or maybe because he just liked the natural sound of her name on his tongue.

She exhaled with a frustration she was barely trying to hide before she looked back at him.

"Can we please be serious, for a second?"

This time it was her who hated who calm he was.

"Fine" She said, "I _seriously _ think we have nothing to say to each other, I'm not angry with you, I don't particularly like you, and I'd greatly enjoy if this whole business could remain professional, we don't have to speak to each other more than necessary, and, forgive me, but this conversation seems a little unnecessary to me."

She was proud of her calm as she finished her sentence, and she hoped that her last words would hurt him as much as possible in his self esteem, but there was no hurt as he looked at her deeply, as if he was trying to see right through her, _inside_ her.

"You're lying" He simply said with nothing else but calm and realization, "You are angry with me."

She was going to reply but he was quicker than her.

"And you have every right to be" He added, "But let's not make a whole war out of it, Sara, we're not high school kids, we're two responsible adults, let's try to act like some, all right?"

She gritted her teeth when he said her name again. She hated how he said it, it was the same way as when he looked at her, as if she belonged to him.

She didn't answer, but he could see how angry she was.

"Look, be as stubborn as you like" He said, "But I'm the one being responsible, here, try to keep that in mind, and then, maybe we can find a way to make this work."

"You know what?" She turned to him trying to contain her anger, "I have the perfect way for this to work, you stay away from me, and we don't speak to each other, how's that for an arrangement?"

"I'm sorry" He said ironically, a little bit angry too, "I'm just trying to find a way for us to work together without there being any problems concerning our history."

"Well that's a nice way to put it." She noticed, bitter, but he ignored her.

"Because if I recall correctly, our past history of working together it ended quite poorly." He finished trying to keep his cool.

"What?" She said, "Me locking the car door on you so you'd be left alone to deal with your co-workers you love so much? I thought it ended pretty well."

He exhaled deeply, trying to let all the anger out and promising himself he would not strangle her by the end of the day, because god knew sometimes she could make him go out of his mind.

"I am simply trying to make this work" He said incredibly slowly as he detached each word from the following, "So we don't repeat the same mistakes."

Her stubborn angry eyes were fixed on him, she had trouble dealing with the intensity of all the emotions she felt. He watched her struggle with herself for a moment, before he couldn't hold back a laugh. She looked at him in pure incomprehension.

"What are you this angry about?" He said and she felt her guts tightening with some more anger.

"I don't think I have to answer that." She replied.

"It's just that, honestly, you seemed to have a better time with it back in Chicago, it just leads me to the question, are you this angry because of what happened back in Gila? Or are you just angry because I saved your life?"

The intensity of the anger in her eyes seemed to double and he concluded he had his answer.

"Let's clear up one thing" She said trying to keep her calm, "You did not save my life, I would have done just fine if..."

She didn't finish, the words getting confused in her head.

"Don't you do this" She ultimately said.

"What?" He said innocently.

"Act like you've done some heroic gesture by saving me, it was nothing but you trying to kill yourself in some classy way, it was nothing but a failed pathetic suicide attempt."

"Oh yeah?" He replied his tone getting higher, "And how about yours, then? You think it was any better?"

She didn't answer, she looked away, and he almost felt sorry at her surprise, she probably wasn't aware that he knew about her overdose the night of the escape.

"You knew" She realized, speaking to herself more than to him.

Of course he knew how wouldn't he? He was programmed to have one step ahead of her on everything.

"Look, Sara" He said -and she decided he was either unaware that him saying her name upset her or that he knew and he liked it which made her the more angrier- "It's to avoid these kind of conversations we should talk, I don't know, maybe set boundaries?"

"Boundaries?" She echoed bitter, she liked the sound of that, and deep inside her she knew he was the one who was right, at the moment, but she couldn't get the image of the wolf disguised as a sheep out of her head whenever she thought of him.

"Yes, boundaries" He repeated ever so innocent, "Look, Sara, in spite of what you might think, I'm here to help, and I have no particular business with you, my only reason to be talking to you right now is that I know how you might feel about me, and I just want you to know that you have nothing to be scared about, I don't want you to be scared of me."

She breathed out loudly, angrily, before she looked back at him.

"Is it fear you see in my eyes right now?" She said and he could hear the rage in her voice. He knew she was trying not to appear scared, he understood that, because, once, he had been her executer, or close enough, and she would ever deny any form of fear in front of him.

"Think whatever you want of me" He finally said, "But I'm only here because I want to make it easier for you, you don't need to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you." She said immediately before turning her head, hiding away from him and her lie was more than obvious.

"Well either way" He said, "I just wanted things to be clear. I've changed, Sara, you don't have to believe me but I have."

"Good" She said and he didn't need any more than her tone to know that she didn't believe him, she just wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible. "That's great, now that it's settled, and since you have no further business with me, I think we're done here."

He nodded, understanding her message, but she didn't look back at him. She didn't look back until he was up and walking back to the warehouse, she kept her eyes on his back until he had disappeared, until she knew he wouldn't be able to walk back to her, push her in the water and keep her head under until she drowned. She looked back at the ocean, strangely feeling lonely, as she realized that it had been more about ten minutes since Kellerman had walked over to join her, that anything could have happened in these ten minutes, and that Michael, who must have seen him take the same exit that she had, wasn't even the slightest bit worried.

She knew he was busy, but, strangely, she had never expected to feel lonely with him, she wasn't attracted with the martyr life, she wanted to be happy, she had wanted it her all life for, but even growing up, as a kid, she had everything she wanted, and it always felt like something was missing, and the idea, that Michael couldn't make her happy was just unbearable, because he was her way out, he was her love, her only chance of happiness, but now, like so many times in her life she was left alone, and even when she was with him, even when they were together, in the greatest intimacy that could ever bind two human beings, she still felt incomplete, she felt happy though, as happy as she had ever been, but... she had just assumed that if she put her all life behind her, if she gave up everything to be with him, it had just always seemed so natural that he would do the same.

So she tried to shake herself up, to tell herself that this was temporary, that it wouldn't always be like this, that it would be different once this whole thing would be over, it had to be... because if it wasn't, if this sensation didn't go away, then... it actually meant that this feeling wasn't coming from her father, or any of the men she had been with until now, it meant that it was coming from her, that somehow, she of all people wasn't meant to be happy, because if she couldn't be happy with a man she loved that much, something had to be wrong with her, right?

She wouldn't cry for this, even though she felt a huge knot form in her throat, she wouldn't, she felt it would be stupid to cry for something she had known all her life, that her issues weren't love, or her father, that _**she**_ was the problem, and that nothing, not drugs, not love, would ever fill that whole inside of her. That something would always be missing.

Her expression hadn't changed a bit since Paul had left, she still looked exactly the same, she wasn't desperate, she wasn't sad, she'd settle, she always did, thinking with only a slight regret that maybe she could do with being half happy, isn't that better than not happy at all? And if this was the best it ever gets, than she could settle for it, she could live like this, she had always been prepared to do so. But then, if she had, why did she feel this numb? Strangely as if Michael had betrayed her again? Why did she feel like all her hopes had slipped out of her hands as reality came crashing to her brain?

Suddenly the exit door opened, and she heard footsteps right behind her. She turned around, thinking that maybe it was Michael, and she realized she wasn't even surprised when she found that it wasn't.

"What are you doing here?" She asked not bitter this time, "Again" she added.

He didn't answer for a while before he shrugged.

"And what are you doing here, Sara?" He simply said.

"I'm losing myself in the profound joy and happiness of my life, doesn't it show?" She said, "Aren't you supposed to be working anyway?"

He didn't answer, he noticed how careless she sounded, he decided maybe she didn't give a damn about him after all, or that maybe she was just a poor rich kid everything bores that wonders what the hell she's doing in some place she doesn't belong in.

"You want to take a walk?" He asked, she had absolutely no reason to accept, but he hadn't asked as if he was expecting her to say no.

"With you?" She said finally getting out of her bored tone as her surprise won over.

He was hesitant for a second before he simply shrugged.

"Yeah" He said.

She was so shocked she wanted to laugh, but she held it back at the last second.

"Why would I want to walk with you?" She asked.

He just shook his head, but his eyes remained set on hers.

"Why not?" He simply answered.

There were a hundred "not" to his question, in fact if she were to count pros and cons of "taking a walk" with Paul Kellerman, she'd find no good reason at all. She kept eye contact with him none the less, before she got up on her feet.

She walked with him, until the warehouse was far behind, only instead of heading toward the city like this morning they walked down to a more quiet road, and before a few minutes only, they were walking a beach, close to the ocean, as the tide slowly went up, almost reaching their feet.

"Why aren't you working with the rest of them?" Sara eventually asked.

"Why aren't you?" He replied immediately, but not aggressive the least.

She looked at him for a second before she answered.

"I have nothing to do with them" She said, "I'm only here to..."

She didn't finish her sentence, she wasn't here for anything, anything but to bring moral and physical support to her boyfriend and be a pretty distraction for the guards when needed.

"Yeah" Paul said, "Well they're not really making great progress, if it'll make you feel better, they're as lost as you are."

"Are you?" It felt natural to ask, and she couldn't help herself, only because she was so surprised to ever picture Paul Kellerman being lost.

"I'm not lost" He said, "I just know when to recognize that my presence's not wanted, I only wish that if it was the case they hadn't called me, I'm done with these kind of games."

She took his word for it.

"Don't tell me you're having a hard time to fit in" She said joking but there was no irony in her voice.

He chuckled, humorlessly.

"I'm not here to make friends, Sara" He said.

She scowled at the mention of her name, before she looked away_. Well, well, so poor little Paul Kellerman's having trouble to fit in_, she thought bitterly, _oh poor you, did my back hurt your knife?_

"Then why are you here?" She asked.

"I want bring down the people who ruined my life, don't you?"

She suddenly wondered if by "people who ruined your life" he was referring to himself, it would have seemed natural to think so, if only this constant sensation of emptiness and half alive had arrived after he had entered her life, if they hadn't arrived ever since she was a child.

"No" She finally said and, though he was genuinely surprised, none of it showed on his face. "I mean..." She mumbled, "It... It isn't about bringing some people down to me, I mean... sure, I'm not a big fan of them, but if it were just for me I'd let it go, it's just..."

Just about living the life Michael had promised her when this would all be over.

"Yes" Paul said once he saw that she wouldn't finish her sentence, "But if you don't feel the slightest bit concerned about this, why even stay at all?"

"No I do" She said immediately, not sure it was true though, "I mean... I'm with Michael, I am concerned about this, I..."

"It wasn't an insult, Sara" Paul said, and his voice to her seemed to linger on her name, "It's just that I don't see why you would."

"Would what?" She asked.

He smiled, a friendly, genuine smile, the type that she would never buy.

"Stay" He finished the same expression on his face.

There was a moment of silence, where his eyes remained intensely set on hers, and she found it almost embarrassing to think that she couldn't even keep up with him in a simple eye contact, he was always in control.

"Well like I said" She said her eyes still fixed on his, "I'm with Michael" and this time it sounded more as a reminder, to her and to him, because -even though she was pretty sure she was being crazy about this- there was something in the way Paul looked at her, like right now, or earlier in the warehouse, even when there were people around, as soon as he had his eyes on her, it was as if he was showing her that she belonged to him, that she was his, his love, his to kill, whatever it is Paul Kellerman does with what he owns.

And she hated this look from him, she hated how powerful he was, as if he could hold her captive only with his eyes.

"Yeah" He finally said through slightly gritted teeth, "Well, I guess after being through so much, apart from him, it kind of feels like the only way to be is with him, doesn't it?"

She didn't know if had meant it the way it sounded, or if it sounded to her different than it actually was, but all she could hear in that sentence was that she was with Michael, not because of love, or because it made her happy, but only because, after giving up everything for him, it was pretty much everything there was for her to do.

"No" She defended, giving him a reproaching/offended look, "It... it just seems natural."

She realized too late that the vision she had just given of Michael and her was too close from the one he had described himself.

"I mean..." She said trying to save the deal, "It just..."

"No I get it" He interrupted her, gently, truly appearing sincere, "You mean it's like there was never another option, like you didn't have to ask yourself any questions, everything was already decided, that if you survived, it would be to be with him." He paused, for a second, and she couldn't not notice the strangeness of true good intention in his eyes, as he set them on hers. "I get it" He repeated.

Maybe he did, after all, Sara knew that she was in a complicated situation, but the worst of it was that she felt she had absolutely no choice at all anymore, after what had happened to her in Panama -and she was still trying for her very few memories of it left to join the rest of them into a huge blank- it had just seemed natural, that when she survived, if she did, she'd go to Michael, it just felt like it made perfect sense, it did until she was here, anyway. It wasn't that he didn't care for her, she knew that, she knew he probably loved her, but, whenever they were together, with his brother, the rest of the team, or even when they were alone, she didn't feel his love for her, she didn't feel _loved_, she felt off, she felt confused, she didn't know if this was it for her, if this was the highest point of happiness, she knew she loved him, that she was sure of, but maybe love and happiness just weren't two things that go along, most of people thought of them as one, but maybe they were two paths, completely different from the other, maybe they were not at all depending on the other. Maybe they were both an incredible freaking bunch of lies.

"Did I upset you?" Paul asked after studying her silence, she noticed that she had stopped walking when her feet -she was only wearing sandals- were wet by the cold water, as a wave crashed on the sand, before fading back into the sea.

"No" Sara simply said before she kept walking, suddenly wondering what the hell she was doing on a beach, having a chat with freaking Paul Kellerman, maybe it was the sensation of the water that had brought her rational mind back in its place, because it had seemed it had left her since the second she had got up to walk with him.

As she fastened her steps her walking with him turned into her walking away from him.

"Really?" Paul said walking as the same speed as she was, "Because I'm starting to think I have."

"You haven't upset me" She simply said, cold, bitter, but back to being perfectly polite, back to her rational thoughts. How could she have even allowed herself to think this way? Things with Michael would get along, they would as soon as this whole thing was over, that they could count the company off their backs and that she could cross Paul Kellerman out of her life permanently.

"What a shame" He said ignoring her, "And I thought we were making progress."

"Well we aren't."

"Ah" He said with an arrogant laugh, "Then you are admitting we have issues to work on."

She stopped walking to face him, and chased every trace of fear or weakness away from her eyes.

"I am admitting to nothing" She said, "I've acknowledged the fact that we indeed have issues, but I am not interested in working them out."

For now she was only interested in the "out" part.

"What's with polite language, Sara?" He said, speaking her name -and he must have known how much it annoyed her by now- with a light humorless smile, "I think I like you better when you're angry at me, at least when you are, you're being honest."

"I... I just don't feel like we should be talking anymore." She said.

She shook her head, completely lost, as if she had been in another planet briefly before she brutally landed back to earth. "Walking" with him? What the hell was she thinking?

"I didn't force you to come here, Sara" He pointed out, ultimately placing himself in front of her, "I didn't make you do anything."

She gulped.

"I'd appreciate if it remained that way" She said, which was a polite way to say get the hell out of the way.

"You came out here from your own will" He insisted, "And unless you're scared to me at a point that you feel you have to do as I say..."

"I'm not scared of you!" She hadn't yelled, but her tone had still gone a pinch higher. She didn't move for a second, letting him stare at her, every inch of her face before his blue eyes burning with intensity set on hers again, they had only been walking for a few minutes, and not fast enough for her to normally feel out of breath, though she felt her breathing coming out heavily. For a second none of them moved an inch, remaining that way, eyes fixed into the other's, on a deserted beach, only filled with the sound of their breaths and the waves that came crashing to their feet.

The longer she looked at him, the harder she found it to stop, it wasn't even that he was incredibly beautiful, each of his features weren't perfect like Michael's, but it's like there was something about him, something you can't tell until you're face to him at this kind of proximity, something about him that feels like everything emanating from him is purely, impossibly virile in the simplest carnal way, he was dominating, strong, dangerous, the perfect example when a mother warns her daughter about a bad boy, and not the 'wearing a leather jacket' kind of bad boy, the _real_ kind, the kind that you really, really should stay away from, the one that doesn't look dangerous, the one that _**feels**_ dangerous, the kind of man you don't love from a rational and calculated love, the one that consumes you whole. She couldn't help but compare him to Michael, -she guessed that he had become some kind of figure to her-, he was the same height, give or take, his hair were darker, longer if you could say so, and his cheeks were darken by a three days old beard, when Michael's cheeks were always closely shaved. Paul's blue eyes were completely different than his, her boyfriend's eyes were soft, always showing that beautiful kind of sadness, an ocean after a storm, Paul's were wild, intense, the kind of eyes that burns you, through your clothes, and your skin, and your soul, with a fire that reaches you to your very core, the kind of intensity that no one can stand up to, the kind that bewitches you.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She managed, she didn't sound angry, her voice only betrayed the obvious discomfort she felt when being around him.

"Who do you think I am?" He replied, all mockery and irony absent in his tone.

"I have no idea" She realized out loud, before she looked down, -because she _needed_ to free herself from his gaze if she was ever going to get her mind back together-, only to look back at him a few seconds later, after putting some order in her thoughts.

"I mean..." She said, "First you're a recovering crack addict, then you're one of them, and now you're here to help, so now you want what? A clean slate? Why even talk to me? You could just do your best to avoid me every day, and one morning, when we would accidently run into each other while looking for some coffee, then there would be an awkward silence before we mumble some excuse and leave, it's not a very attractive option but it's only for a matter of weeks, and we could both survive it, so why suddenly try to work things out and be the better man?"

He hesitated for a second.

"That's not what it's about, Sara" His voice was emotionless, but she suspected him to be upset.

"Then what?" She said, still not angry, just genuinely wanting to know, "You're trying to make amends in your life? Undo all of your wrongs?"

"I don't have that patience."

"Then what?" She repeated a little louder this time.

He smile, joylessly, but the irony was there.

"I didn't pick you to be so stubborn, Sara" He said, and his voice seemed to caress her name, in a way that send shivers down her spine, and she slightly trembled, but he either didn't notice or pretended not to.

"More like curious" She replied coldly.

"You still haven't answered my question" He noticed, "Not honestly, anyway."

"What question?"

"Did I upset you by bringing up Michael?"

"Upset me?" She arched an eyebrow "I hardly see how you could" She said and the irony was more than noticeable in her voice, "You're a lovely person."

He laughed at what came to her as a lie.

"I just want you to know that it's normal to feel this way" He said.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about" She said, "But I know that the chances of you knowing how I feel are very little."

"I'm only talking about the feeling of, when you reach a goal, feeling like maybe it wasn't worth giving yourself all the trouble" He said, "That maybe, it doesn't make you as happy as it should."

She didn't answer anything, didn't lower her eyes either, but let no trace of emotion in them.

"It's a common sensation" He finished, before having a light, but genuine smile.

"What tells you I'm unhappy?" She said after a while.

He chuckled briefly.

"You just did" He simply said.

She looked at him for a while, considering his expression, as if she was wondering if this was just a part of some act, wondering if she would ever be able to tell if the words leaving his mouth were a lie or not.

He watched her watching him, her eyes studied him, his face, his mouth that was still forming the shadow of a smile, as if she was wondering, as if this was the crucial moment where she was going to decide whether he was a decent guy or a wolf disguised as a sheep. After a moment that seemed to last forever, she seemed to decide that he wasn't a considerable danger for her.

_After all,_ the little voice rang in her head_, if he was a danger, Michael wouldn't let you be alone with him, would he? _

"I'm not unhappy" She stated, and most people would have forgotten what she was talking about already. But Paul Kellerman wasn't most people.

He nodded, merely, before he snorted, and cleared his throat.

"You know, Sara" He said and this time her name passing his lips only slightly bothered her, "I'm no one you particularly like, I'm not going to judge you, and even if I were to, so little would you care about my judgment, am I right? All I'm saying is..." He moistened his lips, before setting his eyes on her again, "There's no one to impress here."

She was silent for a second, before she decided that he was probably right, there was no need to mask the truth, or rub it in sugar, he could have it as ugly as it was. _Why_ she told him, though, with all the efforts in the world, she couldn't quite figure that out.

"Okay" She said, "Then maybe I am unhappy, but reasonably."

"Reasonably unhappy?" He said his tone empty from all trace of mockery.

"I mean... it's livable" She said, her eyes were on his but they seemed empty, as if she looked but she didn't see, "I guess that somehow I always felt that way, and since it wasn't so bad, or unbearable, I just figured that was my place." She paused for a moment, her eyes still lost, "You know it's like sometimes, we forget that being happy is the one true purpose in life, I mean, it's not having a great career, or being famous, I mean it's doing whatever it is that makes you feel special, that makes you feel like wherever you are, you're... home."

He didn't respond, she had his all attention, he looked at her, extremely serious, carefully listening to every word she said. _A regular, caring, listening friend._

What happened, this day, for almost two hours on the beach? They talked, or more precisely, she talked, and he listened, that is what anyone who was there -if anyone had been there to witness it- could tell you that happened, but what _**truly**_ happened this morning on the beach? She wasn't sure, the moment where, -even though she never stopped thinking about him as dangerous-, she stopped thinking about Paul Kellerman as a danger to herself, actually, she didn't know why, but the danger emanating from him even felt safe, like a deadly shield around her, that would prevent anyone else from hurting her, and this very morning, the thought that he could be dangerous to her, was strangely pulled out of her mind, and the strangest part was, considering how ridiculous it was given their history, she was completely honest with him, she didn't know what was the part inside her that made her tell the truth but she did, sometimes, her mouth would even run without her, betraying her when he asked a question, but he wouldn't mock, not in these kind of moments, he'd keep the mockery for later, when she'll be less vulnerable and maybe she'd laugh about it.

And just like that, the perspective that he could make her laugh again, burst into her mind, and this time, it didn't seem so odd, because she knew that this wasn't the usual kind of friendship, if it could be called "friendship", in fact she only allowed it because she felt like she was in perfect control to stop it whenever she wanted, all she did was talk, talk about things she never talked to anyone before, and it was okay, because why would he care anyway? So she let it happen, thinking that, no matter what, it would stick to this, one day, one meaningless morning, where she would pour her heart out, but without emotions, only saying these things, the kind of things that seems like they matter so much, like they are so heavy, but then you realize that they're so much lighter once they have been said.

She didn't know that these mornings would become regular, that, often, they'd meet on the beach, not like "secret friendship" or something forbidden, but because it felt natural, it felt good, and had she known, that this would actually turn into "their thing", and that these long walks on the beach would actually turn to be her best part of the day, the glimpse of sunlight she needed to face the day that was to come... she would have ran right now.

But suddenly, out of nowhere, out of this sunny morning that announced the most beautiful day in weeks, it started raining, strings of water started rushing and clicking on the ground, it was pouring, just like that.

And if the water should have waked them up, reminding her that he was the most soulless, uncaring, despicable man she had ever met and probably the last person on earth she would ever consider being with, and reminding to him that she was just some chick he was trying to sleep with, it had a complete different effect on them.

Sara first contracted to the feeling of the water, closing her eyes under the shock, and barely managing to open them without the water blurring her vision, before, as she saw him, suddenly soaking wet, probably wearing the same shocked, ridiculous expression that was on her face too, she started laughing. He smiled from stun, as she stood dripping wet, hilarious in front of him, he stared at her with the same dazed look, before, he started laughing too.

Only when the sky started to thunder, and the rain seemed to get colder and heavier by the second, did they start running for any form of shelter, still laughing.

When they fled above some bridge, their feet on the soaked sand, and under five inches of water, but with their head shielded from the rain, the strangest thing happened. They kept talking, and the "moment" they had had, weirdly, wasn't gone.

Sara didn't know if it was the walk on the beach, or Paul, or the rain, but suddenly, she thought back at what she had said this morning, only this time she meant it.

There really are things in life that you cannot predict.


	3. I've never loved you

**Don't own anything, enjoy and please leave a review ! **

...

It was five in the morning when Sara woke up that night. She awoke in a gasp, her torso lifting up from the bed immediately as she stood, the covers tightly held to herself by her fist stuck to her chest, her breath heavy and uneven, the cold sweat covering her body sending shivers down her spine, as her eyes slowly managed to get used to the darkness of the cabin.

Each time, when this happened, it took her a few minutes to remember her dream, and to remember why she was so scared. She never managed to remember the whole thing, only flashes, bits and pieces, memories that she _knew_ she would rather forget, but they wouldn't let her forget them. They would haunt, and they would terrorize her, reminding her that, even if you want it more than anything, there is just too much that the time will not erase.

She tried to calm herself, -even though in these moments not a single rational thought could get through to her brain- before she threw a quick look next to her. She wasn't surprised to find an empty spot next to her anymore, Michael was always up during the night, -even if it led him to fall asleep with his nose in some files- he would never be there when she woke up, but this night she was slightly surprised, because he had fallen asleep with her, staying with her in bed even after they had consumed their love, something he rarely did. She didn't know if it would help, if the nightmares would seem less scary, less big, if she didn't wake up alone for once. It wasn't as if she had never woken up next to a man, she had, but usually they weren't her boyfriends for more than just one night, and they weren't the kind to reassure her, Michael was, she knew he was, in fact if she were to climb out of the boat right now and go to him to tell him she just had a nightmare, he'd probably try to comfort her, even though it would appear a little childish to him. But after these nightmares, these nightmares about Panama, about the darkest times of her childhood, she didn't need comfort, even if it was Michael's type to bring her this, to reassure her. But he wasn't the type to protect her, and perhaps that was what she needed.

She chased the thoughts away, shaking her head, before she got up, and left the cabin of the boat Michael had entitled her, she didn't bother changing into some real clothes, she doubted that she would run into anyone at the hour on her way to get coffee, and her pajama shorts and sweater wouldn't be the subject of mockery of her new team mates who never missed an occasion to laugh of something, she had already inherited of the nickname "Cinderella" after getting her boyfriend some coffee, and she wasn't in the rush to be called something even more ridiculous.

She made her way toward the kitchen without running into anyone, not even Michael that wasn't in the main room, working, as she thought he would be, but she didn't linger on that. Instead she focused on making herself a coffee with the espresso machine they had just bought, which she appreciated, because it spared her the walk to the coffee shop down town.

"Bad dream?"

Sara gasped, turned around, surprised, but no longer afraid.

"How do you know I was up?" She asked recovering from the shock at the sound of his voice.

"I heard you getting up." He simply said.

His vague form in the darkness wasn't completely revealed to him, she could hardly see him, and his face was still concealed in the dark. Not a danger to her, but none the less dangerous.

"I didn't hear the sound of your footsteps behind me." She noticed.

He smiled, not in a friendly way, but in a way that would have terrorized her weeks ago.

"It's because there weren't any." He simply responded.

They kept playing this game for a few seconds, their eyes set in the other's, accepting the challenge, their face impassive, unbreakable, before a small chuckle escaped him, and they both dropped the act, and all of the angst and fear that could have been set in the room disappeared instantly.

Sometimes they played that game, a game that none of them had invented or settled any rules, a game that simply came along on its own, where they would both play mouse and cat again, a little bit like that game, where you have to look someone in the eyes, and the first one to laugh loses, except this was more intense, in fact, anything that would involve the two of them being together _**was**_ intense.

"You want a beer?" Sara offered naturally as she opened the refrigerator.

"Sure" Paul said with a small, but genuine smile this time.

"Here you go" She handed him the bottle, before taking a hold of her own drink -black coffee- and taking a sip.

"Maybe not a good idea to drink coffee at this hour" Paul noticed, "You're gonna be up all night."

"All night?" She arched an eyebrow, "It's almost dawn."

"Is it?" He said his blue dark gaze capturing hers, and even though she was in no mood to accept the challenge in his voice, it still made her smile.

"Well anyway, what's your excuse for being up so early?" She said.

He shrugged with indifference, but his eyes didn't release hers for one second and they were anything but indifferent.

"Couldn't sleep, then I heard you get up, figured we could both use some company."

She didn't respond, her eyes remaining straight into his.

"Well" He said, teasing, but not with his eyes, "Except if you don't want any, I guess that Michael brings you all the company you need."

She smiled lightly, rolling her eyes up, breaking eye contact with him shortly.

"You know you don't have to make a joke of everything I tell you" She said with a spark of challenge in her voice as well.

"I'm not making jokes" He said, remembering indeed of what she had told him about Michael being very absent in their relationship.

"You are, all the time" She said and their eyes never separated, her smile was still in place, more defying than before, "I tell you things, and when I do, you almost seem sincere, and you actually listen, I should have known that it's only so you can mock me later on."

"You don't mean that" He said confident.

"Maybe I do" She said still challenging him, "You might want to be careful around people, Paul, soon everyone might start thinking that you're a heart cold stone, empty inside."

She hadn't stopped smiling, and her eyes were still fixed on his.

"Is that the image you have of me?" He said wearing the same smile as hers.

Their eyes were still united, battling against the others, her big brown caramel eyes, -and he wondered if one day these big bewildered eyes of hers would ever stop making her look like she was a child facing a grown up- and his, cold and burning at the same time, blue eyes of a roughness that she couldn't compare to anyone else's gaze.

Her smile grew lightly, her eyes seemed to glow -or maybe was it just him- as she softly shook her head.

"No" She simply answered, and he knew she meant it, he knew they were done playing.

He set her free and lowered his eyes, still smiling. Sara took another sip of coffee, looking away as she did, but the smile wouldn't leave her, and suddenly, her cheeks threatened to flush red as she wondered against her will if Paul Kellerman was the type of man that would protect her. _No, of course not_, she had to think, _after all, why would he?_

...

The strangest thing about this _friendship_ was that, in public, they hardly even talked to each other, that was surely the reason why Michael, Linc and the rest of the team probably still thought that she hated him, and somehow, that was the reason this whole thing worked, she could talk to him for hours, share things she usually never discussed with anyone, and when they got back to the warehouse, it all got back to normal. It wasn't that she didn't want people to know about them, she wasn't actually aware that there was a "them", none of them had ever talked about being discrete about these walks on the beach they shared, it just seemed normal, natural.

Of course it would slip at some point, sooner than later actually.

"Well" Paul said after a second of silence, "You haven't answered my question."

It was still early in the morning, only a half hour had went by since Sara had ran into Paul in the kitchen, it was a little early to take a walk, the sun wasn't up yet, instead the beach was only lighted by the dawn, a few streetlights up in the street, their light reaching and lighting the beach, and by the moon, still up in the sky, that had a strange taint of red, which reflected on the calm surface of the ocean, that was only disturbed by soft, small waves that rolled to crash on the shore, at their feet.

Sara noticed that the water was warm as it went to tickle her toes, she had went here bare foot, without even changing, which left her in her purple pajama shorts and grey oversized sweater, her hair was probably a mess, in spite of her efforts to quickly brush them with her fingers, and she wasn't wearing the slightest ounce of makeup. But -and she couldn't really explain why- she felt like it was okay, maybe because the beach was completely deserted at this hour, maybe because she had the strange feeling that her appearance wasn't a problem to Paul, or maybe simply because it was still dark, and everything looks better when the night falls.

Sara looked at him to meet his eyes that she could strangely distinguish quite clearly in spite of the darkness of the area.

"What question?" She said to his comment.

"Why up so early? Nightmare?" He said, his eyes only capturing hers shortly before they set back to the horizon.

"Sort of" She said truthfully, "It happens to me a lot, every time I move, change places and sleep somewhere else, I get nightmares for a while, I'm kind of used to it now, I guess it takes a while before I can feel safe in some place."

Again, she had no idea why she told him the truth.

"Is that because of me?" Paul said and she couldn't tell whether he felt guilt or pride.

"Don't flatter yourself" She retorted, honest, because she knew that this nightmare ritual had started long before she had even met Paul Kellerman, it had started way sooner, after one particular event in her childhood.

"And what are the nightmares about?" He asked.

This she was pretty sure she couldn't tell him, not even because it was _him_, but because the fact that she had never told this to anyone, made it just a little bit less real, as if, with time, she'd come to think that _**this**_ was just a meaningless nightmare not related to any event in any way, and that maybe, what had happened didn't really happen, that it was just all a fragment of her overactive imagination.

"Just..." She said shaking her head, -and the second she spoke he knew she was closing up, and probably about to lie- "Just some bad memories mixed up to what my imagination has turned them into, it's uh... it's kind of complicated."

He nodded, this he would believe, well, at least believed that it was what she believed.

"And what memories is it regarding to?" He asked, as if he knew that she'd be honest with him.

"Just... memories." She didn't feel like it would be awful to talk about it to _him_ in particular, but maybe talking about it would horribly make more... real. And it was the last thing she wanted it to be, after it had happened, she had went home with her eyes set straight in front of her, yet lost, but no looking back, no hesitation, and the rest of her childhood had been this way, holding her head up high, smiling on photographs and acting like everything was perfectly normal, actually, she thought she might have forgotten about what had happened for a while, completely blacked it out of her memory, but it always came back, still, she didn't have to make it real, she didn't have realize, no one would make her, it wasn't as if they could read through her. Was it?

"Memories" Paul echoed, thoughtful, and she found it impossible to guess what he was thinking right now.

For a while everything was silent, he wasn't going to force the truth out of her anyway, he wasn't here for this, he was here for her, he was here to listen, when or if she needed it. She suddenly found herself wondering what was in it for him, why would he spend hours talking, listening to her and look like he was actually taking her seriously? Maybe because he was trying to repay whatever it was he thought he owed her, she thought, but this idea filled her mouth with a bitter, unshakable taste.

"Old memories?" He finally asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

The idea that all this was a repayment for some sort of debt left her immediately, _**this**_, with him, with the both of them, it was a lot of things, it was strange, unexpected, but it wasn't _forced_, and it wasn't an act, it was anything but, it was… natural.

She smiled slightly, at the almost inaudible hidden worry in his voice.

"They're not related to you, if that's what you mean." She said looking at him, even though his eyes were set way ahead of them.

"When did it start?" He asked.

"A while ago" She said and she knew she was being as vague as possible.

"You know you don't have to avoid the question like that" He said, "You can just say that you don't want to talk about it."

"It's not that I don't want to talk about it, it's just... there's just really nothing to talk about." She said.

"All right" He said after a short silence, "Then how about something there is to talk about, you've seen Michael this morning?"

Sometimes he was like this, so perfect in a way, changing subject just at the right time, she when she really needed him to, even though he disguised the gesture by teasing her about another subject, but one on which she could take the assumptions and jokes.

"No" She spoke the truth, "He wasn't with me, that's for sure" She couldn't hold back an ounce of sarcasm as she spoke these words, "But I haven't seen him working at the warehouse either."

She shook her head, chasing all trace of worry.

"He's probably with his brother, talking about work and stuff." She said.

"I think we would have heard them" Paul said naturally.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She said frowning.

He stopped walking for a second, as he looked at her with the 'You gotta be kidding me look'.

"Come on" He said, "You can't have not notice that anyone hears anything that happens in that warehouse."

"Oh" She said trying to hide a discomfort she felt growing in her stomach, "I... uh... I figured maybe it was just in my room, well, boat."

"Well no." Paul said as he went back to walking, with laugh full of innuendos.

Sara followed him automatically, slightly worried now.

"W... what does that mean, then?" She said, as she tried to replay in her head all conversations she had shared with Michael, searching for something inappropriate, when she suddenly remembered that conversations weren't the most inappropriate stuff that had place in the cabin of this boat.

_Damn it._ She knew it, she knew that it wasn't logical for her to hear _**everything**_ happening in the warehouse without it being a two way thing, but Michael had her all rubbed in the "_it's just because the room isn't rightfully placed_" or "_Trust me, I'm an engineer_" and she had bought it.

"I'm going to kill him" She breathed out angrily in frustration.

"Who?" Paul said unable to hide the fact that he was amused.

"Michael and his 'I'm an engineer' jive." She said, annoyed beyond belief, "Why would he even say that? Why get me to think something that's not true?" She almost yelled as Paul had to hold back a smile.

"Well..." He said, "I think I can answer that, I just don't see a polite way to say it, hum... to keep sleeping with you."

"Paul!" She exclaimed with indignation in her tone, even though they were talking and spending some time together, there always was a formality of respect and politeness between them two.

He hadn't said it to mock, he had purely and simply spoken the truth, and, hearing his tone, anyone could have think that he was careless about it, when in fact the moments of Michael and Sara's 'love expressing' truly felt like torture. He had desired her the second he'd seen her, and the feeling, the _need _only grew as time went by, until he ultimately decided that this need would never go away until he had been with her at least once, that and only that, the realization of the desire itself would _finally_ get her out of his head, but that was nowhere happening for now, and even though some days his want for her was so deep, so intense that it was almost painful, a part of him -probably the smart part- was glad that this would never happen, because, if it did happen, and by the most unfortunate of luck she still didn't leave his mind... then this was worse than he had feared, and this obsession for her had reached a whole new level, and, for the first time in his life, he had absolutely no plan B.

"Just saying out loud what everybody's saying in whispers" Paul said with an ounce of annoyance.

First she wanted to point out how rude his comment was but her words were lost in Paul's last sentence.

"_Everybody_?" She repeated understanding the meaning of his words.

She felt her cheeks flush as she understood helplessly that Paul Kellerman and probably every single member of the team she had to work with had heard her having sex with Michael, several times -because even though he didn't spend the whole night in her bed he did spend a couple hours in it more than once a day- and on top of it all she had bought Michael's stupid story about the walls theory.

_Damn it. _

She shook her head, blushing until her cheeks reached the color of the red flaming moon in the sky.

"I never hear them talk about it" She said with an ounce of hope, that maybe they hadn't notice it.

"They do" Paul assured very calm himself, "Not when you're around that's all."

He was pretty sure about that, the comments made by his team mates about the noises coming from the boat at night was actually something else that was very painful to stand, Paul even thought he was going to punch that Roland kid after he had said something that he thought disgraced Sara, and actually all females on the planet, but since he was dedicated to the task of appearing normal when it came to Sara, and that he didn't appear as a feminist, he had been forced to hold back the urge.

"Oh god" Sara said bringing her hand over her mouth, in a mix of shock, anger, disgust and humiliation.

Paul couldn't hold back a laugh as he saw how seriously she was taking this.

"It's no big deal" He said trying to reassure her but the simple fact of standing next to him after what he had probably heard was already making this worse for Sara.

"I'm so embarrassed" She said her hand still against her mouth as she did everything not to meet his eyes.

"Don't be" He said really not eager to create any more awkwardness between them, even though he knew he'd tease her about it as soon as it wouldn't be this fresh. "Look let's just talk about something else" He suggested, "Oh I know, let's do 'I've never'."

She finally let go her embarrassment for a second as she looked at him, curious.

"What's 'I've never'?" She asked.

"Come on you can't have never played this game, I mean you've been to high school haven't you?"

"Yeah" She said, "Graduated at fifteen, maybe people started playing the game later on."

He didn't know if she was joking but if she wasn't he suddenly felt very unworthy. Not that he'd _ever_ deserve her anyway, Sara Tancredi was just this kind of girl, she was the perfect example of the girl next door, the girl you fall in love in at first sight, after knocking on her door to borrow some sugar, she was the girl that you feel special with only because she lets you hang out with her, the girl that you can't not fall in love with her, because she's beautiful, sweet, most of the time not aware of the effect she has on people, and that is and will always be out of the league of guys like Paul Kellerman.

This was the reason why his kind usually avoided girls like her, and why parents warned her kind about boys like him, because even though they belonged to different worlds, and they never should let their two worlds collide, sometimes, they did anyway, because even though they knew they shouldn't, he and all those like him were attracted, intrigued by what they couldn't have, and she and all those like her were attracted by those who are considered as the dangerous kind. Even though it usually led to a disaster.

"Well anyway" Paul said shaking his head briefly to chase his thoughts away, "Usually it's played with alcohol, two friends sit, one says something, like, uh... I don't know 'I've never swam naked' for example, and if the other friend ever did it, he has to drink. Usually the game stops when they find something in common and drink together"

"Oh" Sara nodded, the game suddenly sounding familiar, "So, uh... we're friends?"

He opened his mouth but couldn't speak as he suddenly felt like he was caught red handed. She was smiling fully, appreciating every bit of his reaction.

"Well... I didn't mean that, I mean they can be enemies too, it doesn't matter really, not that..."

"Yeah I get it" She said nodding, the smile didn't go away, of course.

Just fifteen minutes later they were both sitting, high in the beach so the sand wasn't wet by the growing tide, with two small bottles of coke -he had to respect the 'ex alcoholic' thing- that he had went to buy just a minute ago, between the two of them. Their eyes were set in the other's, they were both very serious, this was a different kind of game for them, and as it appeared, you could have said that the two of them were always playing games, some more dangerous than others.

The sun was now starting to slowly rise, the sky was a dark orange shade, that lighted both of their faces so they could now almost clearly see each other.

"Okay" Sara finally said, her eyes still in his, her serious attitude only betrayed by a slight amused smile, "It's your game, you start."

"Fine" He said, thinking that since it was the first time she played, he'd go easy on her. At first. "I've never been to college." He said.

_Easy,_ she thought as she drank a sip of coke.

"Why haven't you gone to college?" She asked after she had swallowed her drink.

He shrugged.

"I guess since my first day in high school I knew I wasn't made for this world, college wasn't much different than school for me, so I joined the army instead, and then, well, then I joined the bad guys I guess."

She nodded, as she listened to a path completely different than the one she had taken.

"Okay" She said after a moment of silence, "Uh... I've never started a quarrel."

_Too easy_. He drank a long, _**long**_ sip of coke, making her laugh.

"You're such a guy" She said shaking her head.

"I'll spin this around and take it as a compliment" He said making her laugh some more, and the soft, light sound of her laugh -and he suddenly thought that he could play this sound over and over again in his head, listening to it like a melody and fall asleep peacefully to the sound of it, as if it was a lullaby- strangely made him smile, a slight, honest, genuine smile.

"All right, my turn" He said trying to chase of the smile, "I've never sang in a karaoke club."

Oh, so he wanted to play dirty. She exhaled with frustration before she drank while he mocked openly.

"How did you even know?" She said.

"Call it intuition" He said but she wondered if there was a story behind it, "What did you sing?"

"No way" She said, "If you want to know you'll have to guess. My turn now, I've never lied to a girl to have a better chance sleeping with her."

If he was going to play dirty she was going to play just like him. He glared at her for a second, his intense blue gaze more dangerous than ever, before he resigned and drank.

"Drink up, sailor" She mocked gently.

"I'm not like that" He said and she was amused to see that he was truly ashamed, "I did that like once."

"Right" She kept the cocky smile on, "What was the lie?"

"It's stupid."

"Oh come on" She said.

He sighed and gave up, suddenly wondering if he could ever deny her anything anymore.

"I might have said something about being some guy from another world and that she was the only person that could save my home planet."

Sara couldn't hold back an incredulous laugh.

"She bought that? Who buys that?"

Paul shrugged.

"Well, the type of lies we can tell girls in bars depends on how drunk they are, there's a level you see, and since that girl was like level 9 on a 10 level scale, it was pretty easy."

"Wow" She said mocking his embarrassment some more, "I knew you could lie for like your job, but I mean... lie to a girl just so you can, I don't know how do you guys call it these days, score? That's just mean, E.T, did you even call her back?"

"No" He said the embarrassment so obvious in his voice -he was like a teenage boy coming clean with his parents- and she couldn't stop smiling.

"Why not?" She said.

"Hey I'm finding that's a lot of questions" He finally stopped her torture.

She pouted, this game _was_ fun.

"Okay" He said, "I've never _believed_ a lie just as idiot as the one I just said."

"Hey that's not..." She protested but he just eyed her with the _'You know the rules, drink up'_ look.

She sighed with frustration before she took a sip of coke. _Revenge, sweet revenge. _

"Fine" She said a little bit annoyed now too, "I've never sold my soul for money, and money includes job."

"I did not..." He started but she gave him the same look he gave her.

He rolled his eyes up before he drank. He could play like this too.

"I've never dated a guy just because he's the only decent guy to date in _a prison_"

"I've never had fantasies about the Unites States _President_"

"I've never worked in a male prison just so my father would notice me"

"I've never told myself that I was born a monster to use it as an excuse to not try to change"

"I've never done the most reckless, wrong, stupidest thing in my life while telling myself I was doing it for love."

A long silence followed his last sentence, his eyes were straight into hers, and she knew he was referring to the door she had left open in Fox River. She was looking back at him, strangely feeling out of breath, before, slowly, she picked up her bottle and drank.

He watched her, and waited until she had put down the bottle before he drank as well.

"See?" He finally said and his eyes seemed more lethal than ever, "We do have something in common after all."

...

They were both silent for a while on their way back to the warehouse, the sun was up now, all light in the streets were off, and the orange sky had been replace by a clearer shade of pink.

"I'm sorry" He was the first one to speak.

She didn't reply, she didn't really know why she was angry, or if she even was angry, she felt like she was too confused by all the different feelings rushing in her brain to put a name on the one that was overwhelming her right now.

"Aren't you going to ask what for?" He said with no other reason than getting her to talk.

"What for?" She echoed immediately, but her eyes still set ahead of her, while his were fixed on her.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier."

"Yeah" She said with a shy laugh, "Do your games always go out of control?"

He smiled lightly, before he answered honestly.

"A few" He admitted.

"Don't worry" She said, "I kind of got carried away too."

"No it's my fault, I knew this game shouldn't be played without a chaperon."

She laughed softly, before she finally accepted his eyes on her and looked back at him.

They had arrived now, but they both stood motionless in front of the door for a while.

"You didn't" She just said.

"Didn't what?"

"Make me uncomfortable, I don't feel uncomfortable with you, I..." It wasn't until then that she realized that she simply couldn't vocalize the feeling of what she felt with him.

She didn't finish, he didn't push her, he remained silence until she spoke again.

"Then what was it, Paul?" And he decided he liked the way his name came out of her mouth.

"What was what?" He said all thoughts blurring in his brain that was now only occupied by the glimmer and the color of her eyes.

"The stupidest thing you've ever done before blaming it on love?" She said.

He waited a second, silent, but not hesitating, and _not_ letting her eyes escape his.

He knew he would answer, and he had brought it on himself, because he had started the challenge, but he didn't want to vocalize what he had done that had truly ruined his life, well not _**his**_ life really, because the life this act had ruined was nothing of the life he led, but it was a life he genuinely thought he could have had. With her.

The irony didn't escape him, of how he had tortured, nearly even killed the one single woman he had ever truly cared about, and all this in the name of _love_. And as she stood there before him, one more time, with the same shy, childish and sad beauty, not more or less changed than him since then but all trace of hate between them was gone, he could only think of one thing to answer.

"I had figured you knew." He simply said, and if she didn't know, if until now she had wondered why he was here, in Miami, working against the very own people he had fought for during fifteen years, if she hadn't known then... now she knew.

She stood there, unable to answer, as he moved in front of her, opening the door, and she had to shake herself up so she could follow, as a thousand questions were buzzing in her brain, questions she _needed_ to ask.

"How come..." She started but she was interrupted the second she stepped into the warehouse.

It seemed as though hundreds of eyes had set on hers, even though it was only her boyfriends and his brother's eyes, which made her suddenly realize the weight of their stare on her.

"Uh... hey." She said not really sure what to say, Paul didn't seem to feel stared at -even though he was too-, he just left, climbing up the stairs, without adding another word.

"Uh hey?" Michael repeated before walking towards her and she could see how truly worried he was, "That's all you come up with?"

"I don't... I don't follow." She shook her head.

"You disappeared" Lincoln said, "Into nowhere, without telling anyone where you were going? Rings a bell?"

"Uh... sorry" She said, "I just... I just went for a walk, I didn't think you'd notice."

"Are you joking?" Michael said, "I went to look for you this morning, and you were gone, just like that, and so was Kellerman, do you know how freaked out I was? I thought you'd been kidnapped or something, I was waiting for a ransom note from him!"

"Well, uh..." Lincoln cleared his throat, "I should probably leave you two, nice to know you're alive, Sare, uh... see you guys later."

He disappeared upstairs as well, leaving Michael and Sara alone, and it took her a while to understand that it was probably her time to talk.

"Uh..." She said, her tired mind a little too slow to follow, "I'm sorry? I didn't realize I did anything wrong, I mean, I couldn't find you this morning -like every morning- and I didn't freak out."

"I hadn't left the warehouse, Sara, that's the whole difference, you can't just leave like that, do you know how scared I was?" He wasn't yelling, not even angry, just honestly worried.

She had an incredulous laugh, which surprised him and made him frown.

"I'm sorry but... come on, I take a walk like every day and you didn't notice until then, I hadn't realized you needed my schedule or thought that I stayed locked up in my room every hour of the day."

"Sara it's just not safe to go out there on your own."

"Yeah, for you" She said, "I'm not wanted, I'm a free woman."

It took him a while to reply, and for a moment he was simply looking at her straight in the eyes.

"Well" He said his eyes not leaving hers, "Tell me if I'm wrong, which I probably am given the circumstances, but... were you taking a walk with Kellerman?"

"Uh... yeah" She said, "We... we talk, sometimes, you know, try to work on our issues?"

That was a lie, but she didn't care, not until it struck her that she could manage lying to Michael but was incapable to lie to Paul.

He looked at her, stunned, shocked.

"You... you hang out with him?" He said in complete incomprehension, "Are you like... _friends_ with him?"

"It's more complicated than that" She said, "We just... talk, I... I didn't think you'd have a problem with that."

That's the moment she truly realized how weird this could have appeared to anyone else than her and Paul, and she would have told them, explained them how natural it felt, but she feared none of them would understand, and especially not Michael.

"Sara" Michael said, speaking very slowly, as if trying to make her realize, "He's a _murderer_." The last word was spoken with a horribly clear disgust.

There was a short silence, until her mouth ran without her and responded against her will.

"So am I." She simply said and only then did she hear the sadness in her own voice. She walked away as quickly as possible, fleeing, just wanting her tears to remain unseen, by Michael, by anyone. She climbed onto the boat, curling up against herself on the cabin's bed, set on the very bottom of the boat.

She wasn't surprised to hear knocks on the cabin door a few instants later, she knew Michael felt horrible, he always did whenever she cried.

"Sara?" He said softly.

He slowly pushed the door open, before joining her on the bed, with the still extreme softness, as if she was going to break at the slightest rough gesture.

"I'm sorry" He said and she could see in his eyes how much he meant it, "I didn't mean it like that, you know that what you've done was nothing like everything he did, you killed a bad person because he was going to kill us, it wasn't your fault, it was..."

"Self defense, I know." She said, her cheeks wet with fresh tears.

"Come here" Michael whispered as he held her, his fingers on her back, stroking her softly, _comforting_ her. She didn't hold him back, even though she didn't want him to stop, she just stood motionless, like a doll in his arms. Minutes went by before he pulled away, but not letting her go entirely, simply moving back a few inches so he could meet her eyes. Fortunately she was no longer crying, and the tears on had dried.

"Look I'm sorry" Michael repeated, "I'm sorry I was this inconsiderate, I just... I'll never see you as a murderer, Sara, you're not, I just..."

"It's okay" She said, interrupting him simply because she didn't want to talk about this with him.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

She simply nodded for all answer.

"Look" He said, "I know... I know I haven't been very... present, with you these days, it's just... we have to do this, Sara, and once we have... there'll be just you and me, and... we'll be happy. It won't always be like this."

She smiled, but appeared wrong.

"I know" She said.

He nodded.

"Okay" He said, "And uh... back to the Kellerman thing, I just don't think he's reliable."

"Uh... okay." She said not really knowing what to say.

"You understand, I mean, he... he's only here because Self thinks he can be useful, but if it were for me... I don't know, Sara, I don't trust the guy, and I just don't like the idea of him being alone with you."

She turned, slightly, to look at him with incomprehension.

"What are you saying exactly?" She said.

"I'd just feel a lot more relieved if you didn't spend any more time than you already have with him, I mean, he works here, for now, but you don't have to see him more than necessary."

"Oh it's not that" She said immediately, "It's not like he scares me, we just... talk, it's okay."

"I'm sure" Michael said, not an ounce of jealousy in his voice -being jealous of Paul Kellerman didn't even occurred to him- as he went on, "But if you don't mind, I'd feel better if you stopped seeing him."

He didn't say it as if it was a big deal, as if it mattered, it didn't matter, it _shouldn't_ matter.

"Uh... yeah" She simply said, a little stunned.

"Ok" Michael said after pressing a soft kiss on her temple.

And then, for the first time in a while concerning Paul Kellerman, Sara started being scared, not much at first, just slightly frightened, Michael kept kissing her face softly but she didn't respond, her mind was somewhere else, the strange importance she realized she had given to these conversations, to these long walks on the beach, suddenly startled her, for this was the first time she realized that _this_, with Paul, this had happened, ant it was real. And it scared her, because stopping had never occurred to her, and as long as she didn't stop, then she didn't need to think that maybe she didn't want to stop, and then, she didn't have to ask herself why, and that was a good thing, because she frankly had no idea.

She shook herself up, immediately chasing these thoughts away. Stopping it was a good thing, maybe it was about damn time she did anyway, it wasn't a big deal after all, she probably wouldn't even notice, and surely it was better this way, to stop before it had the slightest chance to go too far, not that it would have gone any further, she immediately corrected herself, and then, the fresh memory of him referring to her as a friend suddenly popped inside her head and she froze.

Yes, maybe it was indeed time she put an end to this, she'd stop, all of it, it'd be easy. _Right_?


	4. Viva Las Vegas

Sara was pulled out of slumber by a light squeak from the room upstairs. She let her eyes open, still sleepy, before she felt the beginning of a smile form on her lips.

"Michael?"

He torn himself from his contemplation of the ceiling to look at her, smiling naturally.

"Hey, sweetie," He murmured, "did you sleep well?"

She smiled, content.

"You stayed the night." She observed.

He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, I did." He said, before leaning in closer to her, "You know I'd stay every night if I could."

"I know."

He let his thumb skim over the lines of her face before he leaned in to kiss her. She let their lips meet once, twice, before realization hit her and she backed away.

"What?" He said, a line of worry forming between his brows.

She gave him a judging glare, suddenly remembering why she was mad at him yesterday.

"The room just isn't rightfully placed, uh?" She scoffed humorlessly, before shoving him off her, throwing some clothes on and climbing off the boat.

"Wh-" Michael remained in incomprehension for a few minutes before he understood that one of his co worker -he'll find out which one and make him pay later- must have slipped in an allusion concerning to how thin the walls were, and what kind of noises were coming from their boat cabin.

"Wait, Sar, I had no idea!" He threw himself out of bed without realizing that she had left more than a minute ago.

...

Sara stood in the warehouse's kitchen for a while, contemplating an empty mug of coffee, she should fill it up, drink it all to feel all better and concentrate on work, instead she just pondered uselessly.

This didn't feel right, she shouldn't be there, she should be walking on the beach, with big waves crashing to tingle her toe, and the beam of the morning sun making it just so she wasn't cold.

That was what she had been doing for the past two weeks, until she was officially grounded by her boyfriend, which left her for only option to spend the day sulking in an elevated boat, not being useful. Damn him. Though, deep down, she knew he was sort of right to be worried, with her -she couldn't find the word, hanging out?- let's say spending time with a retired killer, and she should feel happy he worried, happy he noticed. But she didn't, she sort of missed it, missed the beach, missed the long shameless talks, missed-

Nope, she wouldn't say it or even think it, she missed the beach, period.

"You want some help filling that void?"

His voice, smug and arrogant, only because he knew she was in a mood where he could afford to be, and he also knew he wouldn't be able to hold back a smile when she would look at him, bewildered and even slightly outraged.

"Uh- excuse me?" She managed.

"The mug, you're holding," He explained after letting her ponder for a second, "it's empty. You don't have to fill it, but, well," he scoffed shortly, "you can't drink empty. Coffee, on the other hand-"

"Right, uh- I don't have time right now." She interrupted, silently congratulating herself for being this professional, and feeling very proud of her answer, cold, dry, leaving no place for convincing.

"You don't have time?" His brow raised slightly, "Weren't you just staring at an empty cup?"

She should have remembered, that with Paul, there would _**always**_ be convincing.

"Well," She replied, on the same emotionless tone she faked so poorly, "how I drink coffee is really none of your business."

"I thought we sorted out yesterday that everything you do in this place is everybody's business."

He smirked, and stifled a laugh. She could have strangled him.

"Well, that's been taken care of." She retorted, acting even more cold - being less and less credible.

"Yes, I've noticed," He said while she tried leaving the kitchen, him following her closely, "it was quite - quiet, last night. Different than usually when-"

"I really don't have time, Paul." She cut him off.

"_Why_-" He put himself in front of her way, with a weary but mostly amused smile, "-are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," She lied -and lying this bad had to be illegal- "I'm just really busy."

"Do you want to walk on it?"

"Okay look," She decided that the only way to get rid of him was to be a slightly bit honest, "these little walks down the beach can't happen anymore."

She expected a smug and cocky answer, instead he just looked at her, a mild smile of honesty starting to form on his lips.

"It's too bad," He finally uttered, still looking at her, "I really enjoyed them."

She nodded, trying to remain as cold and professional as possible.

"Well I'm sorry." They felt like the wrong words the second she spoke them.

He frowned slightly, pondering on whether she was breaking this up because of his almost declaration of yesterday, right before they entered the warehouse.

"Did Michael tell you to say that?" He ultimately decided; Sara Tancredi was capable of a lot of things, acting cowardly wasn't one of them.

And given the defensive look on her face he had got it right.

"That's none of your business," She finally said.

It should have sounded cold and sharp, like everything else she had said this morning - it sounded more like an apology.

He held her gaze for a second, before he nodded a single time, letting her win. Their talks and moments spent together, he had done it for her, regardless to how much he had enjoyed them, it was only okay until she wanted it so.

"As you wish," He agreed, still smiling slightly, but not in the same way, "I'll miss being your-"

He hesitated, chuckling lightly for a second as he lacked of words, looking at the floor as he did, before finally pursuing.

"-almost friend." He finished, his eyes back to hers.

She swallowed, with more difficulty than she would have thought, and left without adding another word.

He stayed there, maybe a little giddy, waiting for her to come back, put the empty mug in on the counter without a look toward him and hurriedly leave the room. He stifled a chuckle before following her into the main room.

He only caught a glimpse of her flaming red hair and her back before the exit door shut and she had disappeared. Michael arrived in the room, visibly coming from Sara's "room" as he glanced everywhere inside the room, until his eyes set on Paul.

"You've seen Sara?" He asked, appearing even too hurried to sound hateful and disgusted to be talking to him.

"Yes," Paul said without a hesitation.

Michael frowned, obviously upset. Paul innocently pointed at the exit door.

"Oh." Michael uttered, "Okay" he was gone a second later.

Paul shook his head, repressing a "what is going on with the world?" eye-roll before sitting down and grabbing a file he hadn't got the chance to check out yesterday.

_Well, well, so you ended up being one of the Scylla keepers?_ He thought carelessly before Michael emerged back in the room, alone.

"What are you doing?" He immediately said.

Kellerman arched an eyebrow, innocently.

"Working," He answered, "you know, that's what I've been sent here to do."

Michael, just sighed, muttering some cuss. Obviously, he'd love to have walked in on him while plotting against the rest of them so he could kick him off the team.

"Sara not back with you?" Paul changed subject.

"Yeah, she just needs a second." Michael answered.

He didn't have the time to glare at Kellerman any longer before Lincoln walked in, followed by a few other members of the team.

"It's just been confirmed," He said before waving toward the file in Kellerman's hand, "Logan, he's the guy who keeps the fifth Scylla card." Lincoln pursued, "Rolland did a little more digging. This time we're sure."

"And any idea where he's at right now?" Michael said, not paying attention to Paul anymore.

"More than an idea, a hotel reservation in Las Vegas." Lincoln responded, "Anyone in for a little trip, gentlemen?"

Michael pondered for a second. They couldn't all go, not with T-bag that had been spotted not far from here less than a day ago.

"Okay," He finally said, "Linc, you'll go with Rolland to Las Vegas, the rest of us will just stay here and we'll take care of Bagwell."

He suddenly realized that he didn't like the sound of that, the last thing he wanted was Sara around when they would go haunting for that animal.

"On second thoughts," He changed his mind, "bring Sara with you too."

She entered the room at that exact second.

"Bring me where?" She asked, her eyes unintentionally setting on Paul before she forced them back on Michael.

"Vegas, baby." Rolland let out, before meeting Michael's glare and lowering his eyes instantly.

Sara looked back at Michael, her long smooth strands of hair masking half of her face.

"Michael? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He walked with her to the other end of the room to give them some privacy.

"So are we haunting Scylla or going to Vegas gambling?" She asked.

"Both," Michael said, "well, we're not going to gamble, look there's this guy, Logan, who we now know to be the carrier of the fifth Scylla, card. He's in Las Vegas right now, so-"

"Okay, I get it." She interrupted, nodding shortly.

They both looked at each other coyly, before the silence was broken.

"You know you really should bring me along too."

They both turned to Kellerman.

"I'm just saying, I worked with this Logan guy on a mission, if whatever you're planning to do to get to Scylla fails, I could be your spare wheel."

Michael pondered for a moment. He didn't like this at all.

"And plus, you'll need someone to look after Sara since you'll be miles away." Paul added, only to make things worse, Michael suspected.

"Wait, you're not coming?" Sara turned to him, confused.

"Well-" He hesitated, as he saw his girlfriend's expression slowly shift to anger.

"Look, personal business put aside," Paul said, getting up and walking to them, "you have to remember that I'm here to help. I'm here to be useful, so - use me."

...

When they left for Vegas Sara decided that she understood Michael less and less, first he wanted her to stay away from Kellerman, then, he sent her 2,538 miles away in the city of sins with him, accompanied by his brother who never talked and a professional hacker just a little pervert. Well this seemed to be the trip of a lifetime.

"Well that's where our paths separate, I guess." Paul said once they all got in the plane.

Sara repressed an eye-roll, she wasn't sure if it was the plane trip, or the fact that Michael wasn't there to chaperon, but since they had left he'd been acting like twelve year old on a sugar high.

"What do you mean?" Sara sighed, and Kellerman looked satisfied that she had asked.

"Well I'm willing to do lots of stuff for this team, travelling in economic class isn't one of them," He smiled, his gaze concealed by his dark sunglasses, "see you on the other side."

He only stayed a second to meet Sara's confused look, before she just shook her head, probably thinking "whatever" to herself, which just made his smile widen.

"See you in Las Vegas, guys." He glanced at Sara one last time -what were the dark sunglasses for?- before heading towards the first class session.

Sara returned to the task of finding her seat, while carelessly hearing the boys talk.

"Just to say out loud what everybody's thinking," Roland said before hopping in his seat, "who the hell wears sunglasses in a plane?"

"Creepy habits," Lincoln shrugged, sitting just one seat in front of Roland's, "he's a creepy dude, no surprise there."

They kept on chattering -rather Rolland kept on talking while Lincoln's lips seemed to seal- while Sara tried to focus on not listening. She found her seat by the window, and leaned against the cushion, trying to get some sleep - it was a four hour flight, and she hadn't slept much in the past couple of days -past couple of months- and now was as good moment to kill time.

She wasn't sure why she slept better in planes, all she knew was she never had a single nightmare when falling asleep in one, maybe it was all the people surrounding her, the clear fact that she wasn't alone, or maybe it was because she was in a metal cage so high from the ground that the cold alone would kill her if she were to suddenly pop outside of the plane, it was like a shelter, a safe place.

Her eyes crinkled open when a middle aged man took the seat next to her. She politely smiled, as he returned a nearly toothless, appreciating grin, as he eyed her from bottom to top. So much about that warm and comfy safe place.

She turned her eyes away, looking back at the window as the plane took off slowly. The comfortable sensation of appeasement gained her as the plane rose in the sky, and she tried closing her eyes anyhow, sighing in a whiff of neglected tiredness. It didn't take more than a few minutes before a baby started crying. _And falling asleep is off the chart._

"I'm sorry, miss?"

She blinked her eyes open as a stewardess leaned toward her.

"Are you Sara Tancredi?" She went on.

Sara threw an unsure glance toward Lincoln, who was attentively looking at the scene, before she tried to remember that she wasn't wanted for anything.

"Uh- yes," She finally uttered, "I mean no, well - why?"

"You've just been moved to first class," The air hostess said, wearing the usual air hostess smile that seemed to be frozen on her face for so long that Sara wondered if she ever stopped smiling.

She waited until Lincoln nodded to her briefly before she got up in a jump.

"Hey," Linc said before she had the time to leave, "call me when you're there okay. You're never too careful."

She nodded, before following the stewardess up front, until they reached her seat. The woman wished her a pleasant flight before leaving Sara alone, with a joyless smile of disbelief on her face. She should have seen this coming.

"Champagne?" Kellerman offered. He had removed the sunglasses, not the grin, as he handed her a glass, obviously waiting for her to sit.

"Come on," He insisted after she rolled her eyes, "humor me."

"Humor you?" She scoffed, her tone clearly saying that she wasn't in the mood for this.

"Okay, fine, return to your seat," He shrugged, "but you know I heard your seat neighbor just got out of prison."

"How would you know that?" She said, and his grin only widened, "How come you know everything about anything, is there anything you don't know?"

"Few," He admitted, strangely it didn't sound as if he was bragging, "well, are you going to sit?"

She sighed helplessly, before giving in and taking the seat next to him. He looked away, satisfied. He knew she would.

"Well, I'll repeat myself, then, champagne? It's ginger ale, really, I wouldn't dare mess with your issues-"

"Why are you here?" She interrupted, forgetting all about the manners and professionalism she'd sworn herself to respect this morning, "Are you really here to - help?"

"Of course I am, Sara," She could have sworn he'd let her name particularly linger on his tongue, "why else would I be here?" he posed, apparently amused.

"Because you look like you're having way too much fun," She retorted, "are you just here to-" she hesitated, her mouth slightly opened as she remained speechless for a second, "annoy me?" she finally uttered.

He chuckled.

"Is that you saying I annoy you?" He ultimately said, "Because if so, you've spent a lot of unnecessary time with someone who unnerves you, why would you do that?"

"Okay fine, you want me to say it?" She gave in wearily, "Michael doesn't like me spending time with you."

"Ah," He whiffed in an overplayed relief, "now was that so hard?"

She didn't answer.

"So you've confessed to our little walks on the beach?" He went on.

"There was nothing to confess," She corrected immediately, "he just saw the two of us walking in yesterday, and he said he was worried. And I don't want to worry him. He comes first."

She really wanted to speak these last words so they were loud and clear, this way she hoped to gain some - what, maybe an understanding nod from Kellerman? Instead he just scoffed.

"Yeah, well I think you've pretty much proven that an incalculable amount of times." He sneered.

She sighed and shook her head, she wished she hadn't sounded so amused.

"Look, let's cut to the chase," She finally said, "why did you pay my seat?"

"Uh-" He pondered for a moment, "because just when I arrived here I ordered a bagel," he waved towards an empty bag as proof, "and - it was really good."

Sara stared at him, in complete disbelief, torn between calling him crazy or just laughing.

"You paid me a seat in first class," She paused a moment, raising an eyebrow, speaking very slowly so maybe he'd realize how crazy he sounded, "for - a _bagel_?"

"Yes, I did. It was really good, I wanted to share that with someone." He nodded, and if she didn't believe him he appeared to believe himself, and didn't look ashamed of it.

She looked away, and shook her head. This was not happening, she wasn't actually travelling to the sides of an evil version of 007 just because he enjoyed their bagels.

"And, well, I would have invited Lincoln, but-" He shrugged, as if it was completely natural, "I don't enjoy his company quite so much as I enjoy yours."

"Okay, what letter in 'over' don't you understand?" She said, "Michael said-"

"That's an interesting thing you've just said, Sara, point taken," He interrupted her, "but may I ask something? Do always do difficult things and make sacrifices for someone else's purpose?"

He studied her face while she didn't answer.

"And what tells you that renouncing to conversations with you is either something difficult or a sacrifice to me?" She retorted, and he smiled.

"That's a very interesting answer," He finally said, "do you always avoid to answer questions by asking other questions and by, what you would call, subtly changing subject?"

"Do you always intend to sound like a jerk or were you born with it?" She interrogated, now frowning.

He smiled for all answer.

"There, you did it again." He observed, and before she had the time to retort, he waved at a stewardess, "Miss?" he said to her attention, "We're gonna need another bagel."

Sara looked away, a joyless scoff escaping her as she shook her head in confusion. Their bagels better be pretty damn good.

...

Sara opened her eyes, a little confused at first when she didn't recognize the place, before she remembered that they were in a plane, heading towards Vegas. She loved this sort of confusion, she loved waking up from this heavy sort of sleep, a dreamless, nightmare free, slumber.

She twisted her neck and was almost startled to see Paul in the seat next to her, before she remembered the reason as well.

"Did I sleep?" She questioned.

"Yes," He answered, his arms stretched behind his head as a pillow, and his eyes set on the ceiling.

She had never imagined possible to fall asleep in the presence of Paul Kellerman, well, she reminded herself, until a few weeks she had never considered possible to have honest and personal conversations with him either, but still, she would consider that falling asleep next to him would put her in a position way too vulnerable. She must have been really worn out. Or really foolish.

"Actually, it was quite rude," He went on, his eyes still on the ceiling and not her, "we were in the middle of a conversation when you started snoring."

She blinked a couple of times before she managed feeling wide awake, then she glared in Kellerman's direction. She did not snore.

"If by a conversation you mean you talking while I was trying to ignore you," She retorted coldly, "let me tell you that-"

"First of all that's hardly what it was," He interrupted, "and second of all, may I remind you that during our time spent together you were mostly the one doing the talking."

She opened her mouth, stunned. Did he really just say that?

"Okay," She managed, "for starters it was your idea to go take a walk for the first time, and-"

"And you agreed," He finally set his eyes on her, "quite easily if I might add. In fact, I'm a little surprised Michael didn't make you put an end to this, weeks earlier." His voice was completely impassive, almost emotionless, "You can't imagine how easy it would have been to knock you out and drown you or even simply just snap your neck. No, actually, given your experience in people of my profession I'm assuming you were quite aware of that, and so was Michael, my only question remains why did you do it? Because he didn't stop you?"

She paused for a second.

"You won't hurt me," She simply said, and had no idea where it came from, and the strangest part was that when she said it, it seemed startlingly natural.

He scoffed, gently.

"You seem awfully sure of yourself." He said.

He strangely sounded – content, to know that she felt safe with him, or, at least safe enough to believe he wouldn't strangle her in her sleep. Sort of like she had done with him, really.

"If you were going to hurt me you would have, you had the occasion." She said.

This time her tone was more controlled, more cold.

"Hum," He pondered, looking at her, "you're angry" he observed.

"Why would I be angry?"

"What, you want to hear my theory?" He mocked, with a slight smile.

"Why not," She surprised him, "have at it."

He obliged, and nodded, before studying her face so intensely that she felt herself blush.

"You know I'm dangerous," He started, still thoroughly looking at her, "but you know I won't be a danger to you anymore, but, clearly – Michael doesn't. He thinks I might hurt you, he worries about it, and yet, he let you wander off with me for hours, giving me plenty of opportunities that I could have seized to hurt you, so in short, if he loves you, and if he doesn't trust me - where was he? All this time we spent together, and he doesn't notice until you shove it right in his face? He calculates and plans everything about an escape for his brother, or a plot against the company, but he doesn't notice that the so called love of his life spends most of her time chatting with a thug like me? Maybe he ought to review the order of his priorities."

Sara stared at him, her face slowly decomposing in front of his eyes.

"Am I close?" He finished, and it felt like he had just given her the _coup de grace_, and she felt the sudden urge to throw something at him. Or maybe strangle him again.

"You bastard," She breathed, sounding a lot less strong than she would have liked.

"There, there, Sara," He said in a purr, "isn't it you who told me that the truth was better than the lies? Always?"

She didn't answer, her face turned away from him, her long curtain of hair masking her face from his eyes.

"Would you wish to take back your word?" He offered.

"Fuck you." The words came out so fast she couldn't believe it was her who said them.

It usually wasn't her habit to swear, but especially when she talked with Kellerman, even though none of them had set it in, there was always a form of respect and politeness. It seemed long gone.

"Well," Paul observed, not unnerved the least, "it took you long enough. For a while there I started to think that the real person under that mask of manners and fake smiles was never going to even scratch the surface, but now-"

"You don't know me, Paul," She interrupted, "you think you do," this time she looked back at him. She wasn't faltering anymore, her voice was impassive and strong as she pursued, "but you don't."

He pondered with a nod, before he added.

"And, Michael? Does he?" He said, his eyes straight on her, "He loves you in his way no doubt, and he'd risk many things for you, but does he _know_ you?"

He paused, the time for his words to make their impact.

"Does he even try?" He went on as Sara inhaled sharply

She swore to god if they weren't on a plane she'd find something sharp and break it on his face.

"Or," He pursued and she felt like that urge was only going to grow, "is he too busy with work at day, and too occupied undressing you at night to even bother talking to you?"

She slapped him so fast that none of them even saw it coming, and she could have vouched that she was the most surprised of the two when it happened. His head turned on the impact, other than that he didn't flinch.

"It's okay," He said loudly, speaking at the attention of the few passengers that caught in on their more or less civil conversation, "I had it coming," he assured.

That he did.

"No need to call security," He went on, before setting his eyes back on Sara. She wasn't sure whether he looked more impressed, annoyed or proud.

"Well, Sara," He finally said and she felt her blood boil at the sound of her name, "what happened to the good girl?"

"Like I said Paul you don't know me very well." She said angrily.

"I know you better than that ignorant selfish boy who claims to be your man." He retorted on the same tone as her.

"Why does this conversation keeps coming back to _Michael_?" She let out furious.

This time he didn't answer. Even with his great talents of improvisation, he couldn't think of anything to answer. He didn't know himself.

"What is it, uh?" She said, clearly trying to push him the way he had, "Are you jealous?"

Was he?

"Don't insult me," He retorted, almost mockingly.

"Then what is it, Kellerman?" She pursued her task, "How is it that you can't just let it go when I tell you to? Why do you follow me to Vegas and pay me a first class ticket? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

He didn't answer, she could nearly see the rage escape from his nostrils as he exhaled in frustration hardly even controlled.

"He doesn't love you." He only uttered, angrier than she had ever seen him.

She looked at him in complete disbelief.

"You are kidding me," She said, looking away instantly, trying to keep herself calm before she faced him again. "What the hell, does it have to do with you, anyway?" She spoke extremely slowly.

"It doesn't," He uttered through gritted teeth, "but if he loved you, he'd either take care of you or let you go."

"Oh is that what you believe?" She knew this conversation was no longer private but she couldn't keep her voice down, "If you love a person enough, love her enough to let her go?" she scoffed in disbelief mixed in anger, "_Who __**knew**_ that Paul Kellerman was romantic?! Well I'll tell you what, you have no right! You have no right to judge me, or Michael, or his love because you want to know the truth? You don't even know what love is."

She paused for a second, she could see how angry she had made him but she couldn't have cared less.

"And I pity you." She added as she jumped on her feet and walked away.

"Sara!" He shouted after her, oblivious to the several eyes that their eventful conversation had drawn.

She didn't even look back as she regained her former seat, raging.

"Everything okay, Sar?" Lincoln asked when he saw her storm her way through to her seat, but she ignored him for the rest of the trip.

…

Sara listened to Lincoln's plan concerning how to answer the card keeper, a plan that she found didn't include her at all, and she obliviously thought that Michael just might have sent her along to Vegas to distract her.

"Okay," Lincoln said after working out all the details, "so let's go guys, Sara-" he pondered for a second, "you just wait here in the room, okay?"

She nodded, wearing an overly forced smile.

"Absolutely," She said.

"Okay then, we're all set," Lincoln said, "see you later, Sar."

He headed towards the exit and left, followed closely by Roland. Paul followed them too, without a word, or even a glance toward the young woman. And she didn't know why, but that certainly didn't put her in a better mood.

There were a few books in the bedside drawer, but she wasn't really in the mood to read, or to do anything really, so, she sat on the bed and turned on the TV. She skipped channels until she reached some cheesy romantic movie; it was the end, apparently, and the two main characters were just about to get together and given that the violins were playing they were probably about to kiss too.

Sara rolled her eyes and scoffed when the hero said something about loving her eternally. _Liar_. She skipped channels again until she got bored and turned it off, officially having nothing to do.

She glanced at her cell phone; she wanted to talk to Michael but it was out of the question for her to call him, he had sent her to Las Vegas in Kellerman's company, he had to call first.

She sighed -out of tiredness, bore, annoyance, you name it- before she slumped on the bed, deciding she might as well catch some sleep while she was at it.

She awoken just an hour later, when Lincoln stormed in the room.

"Damn it!" He cussed before hitting the flat of his fist against the wall.

Sara jumped on her feet, trying to not pay attention when Paul entered the room as well.

"What happen?" She said, "We didn't get the card?"

"No," Lincoln was the one to answer, since Paul was still giving her the silent treatment "we managed approaching the guy, the plan worked out all right, but he didn't have the card on him."

He exhaled in frustration.

"It's probably in his suit." Lincoln muttered, furious, "In which we have zero chance to break into, because it's nearly a fortress-"

"We don't have to break into it." Paul blurted, drawing all attention on him.

"I'm not going back empty handed," Lincoln grunted.

"That's not what I meant," Kellerman explained, "what I'm saying is I know Logan, the only three things that count for him are money, women and – actually, only two things."

"And your point is?" Lincoln said, clearly not in the mood to laugh.

"My point is we don't have to break into his suit to steal his card when one of us can just walk in and copy it without Logan even realizing what happened."

"You're not saying what I think you're saying," Lincoln said.

"It could work," Kellerman went on, he hadn't set eyes on Sara for one second, "he's what? Gambling by now? So we send her to seduce him, with the device we use to copy Scylla on her, and when he takes her to the room she copies the card."

"Wait-" Sara didn't even get the time to protest before Lincoln did.

"And then what?" He said, "We leave her there? Are you nuts? If Michael doesn't kill you for suggesting that, I will."

"I'm not saying she has to sleep with him," Paul said with an eye-roll, "we'll call her and she'll pretend her father just died, I don't know, something like that."

"Yeah, and what if he won't let her leave?" Lincoln questioned.

"Oh come on, I know the guy, he'd never coerce her into anything, he's grossed out by crying women."

"And if he sees that she's lying?" Lincoln persisted, "I don't know if you've noticed but she's not the best liar in the world-"

"He's pretty gullible when it comes to women, so-" Kellerman started.

"Hey, wait a second," Sara finally managed, "can we please put this on pause. Is it too much to ask for you to include me in a conversation that concerns me?"

"Of course," Lincoln said, immediately.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Paul said, challenging.

She looked at both of them before she scoffed, humorlessly.

"Wow," She uttered, "well, I guess that makes obvious what you guys think I bring to the table."

"It's not like that, Sara." Lincoln said.

"Oh don't coax her," Kellerman rolled his eyes, "why can't you people ever be honest with her for a change? Yes, Sara, we're not women, you have assets we don't have and it'd be a shame not to use them. Especially when it would make a free man of this boyfriend you love so much."

She didn't retort, but the glare she gave him said it all.

"Uh," Lincoln said, "Rolland just texted me, he's still watching Logan and he said he just went to the pool. Should I tell him we have a plan, or?"

Sara kept eye contact with Kellerman for a few more seconds before she looked away, angrily, but decided.

"I didn't bring a bathing suit." She just said.

"I'll go get you one at the shop downstairs," Linc said, "I'll warn Rolland too."

He left the room without another word.

…

Only a few moments later she was alone in the bathroom, trying not to blush as she looked at her reflection. She was only wearing a golden bikini, that only covered three small triangles of her anatomy, and a silky _short_ bathrobe, that both men insisted ought to be open, and was only here to cover the scars on the middle of her back. Her long smooth hair was down, and brushed against the bikini top that barely covered her breasts.

"Jesus," She muttered to herself, praying that this was some sort of nightmare she would soon wake up from.

She heard knocks on the door, and a few seconds later the door opened. She was expecting Lincoln, and was a little surprised to see Paul appear behind her in the mirror. And given his expression he was doing his best to stifle a laugh. A smile escaped him though.

"Shut up," She said before he had the time to say anything, "god I can't actually leave this room dressed like this.

"Sure you can," Paul said, still struggling with his smile, and he had to bring his fist against his mouth so he didn't laugh.

"Oh get out!" She said.

This time he couldn't hold back and chuckled.

"It's not so bad," He said when he managed controlling himself.

"Not so bad?" She turned to him, furious, "I look like a stripper!"

"But a very classy stripper."

He dodged the bottle of shampoo she threw at him.

"Don't worry," He teased, his smirk back in place, "Michael won't have to know. You know what they say: what happens in Las Vegas, stays in Las Vegas."


	5. Holding out for a hero

It took Sara about a half hour looking at the bathroom's closed door to realize that she was stalling. She didn't like this. She hadn't exactly enjoyed all the other times she'd needed to flirt with security guards before – one for the team – but this? It was taking things a hint higher, and she didn't like that. She didn't like that at all, in fact she didn't like it so much she almost wanted to call Michael, who still hadn't called himself by the way, and tell him that his brother and goddamn Paul Kellerman were sending her to seduce the fifth card holder.

Of course, she had flirted with people for the team before, but this was different. For this, she needed to actually enter his suite.

The few knocks pounded on the door barely even startled her anymore. She couldn't unhook her eyes from the mirror – she couldn't actually believe she was going to have to leave the room dressed like this, and 'dressed' really was overselling it.

"What's taking so long?" She heard Paul's voice on the other side of the door. Great, because all she needed to make this better was his mocking-pleased voice. She'd sent him away a few minutes ago, saying she needed some time to get ready – and now she just couldn't face the idea to leave the room.

She exhaled a long-suffering sigh before she pushed open the bathroom door and entered the bedroom to face her three teammates – so to speak. Lincoln was clearly embarrassed beneath his impassive attitude, Roland and Kellerman not so much – obviously.

"Mmh." Roland commented, rubbing his chin with his hand. "You should consider tying your hair."

"Excuse me?" She managed.

"Necks are kind of sexy. You have a nice neck."

"Uh – thank you?" She didn't exactly mean that, in fact, she sounded closer to outrage. So it wasn't enough that she had to come here dressed like a stripper, they could actually make comments and suggestions? Well that didn't make her feel cheap.

"Don't listen to him," Paul simply stated, "you have gorgeous hair."

"Oh, really?" She didn't exactly try to hide the irony in her voice. "So, I might be mistaking, but is this actually turning into a conversation about whether either of you would rather do me with my hair down or up?"

"Not us," Roland shrugged, "Logan."

The look that escaped Kellerman at the moment was almost a glare and it almost said '_rub_ _salt in the wound while you're at it_.'

"Conversation over." Lincoln simply decided, and his impassive judgment made the rules as always – Sara was sort of comforted about Lincoln's presence. She knew the two of them weren't real close, but he still cared about her a little, she assumed, and he wouldn't let her into harm's way, not when she was Michael's girlfriend. Comforted, in a way that felt almost wrong, but the feeling lingered when Linc turned to Kellerman. "Did you have fun choosing that bathing suit you little pervert?"

"I bought it in a Vegas gift shop, what did you expect?" He retorted mirthlessly – he was just a little bit enjoying this.

…

Soon they were at the pool, eyes on the target. Sara had sat at the bar, somewhere not too far from the card holder. The three others were spread into the crowd, they took seats somewhere near the pool – somewhere near enough to keep an eye both on the target and Sara.

Kellerman spied her through his perennial sunglasses and it wasn't so much voyeur as it was protective – he knew Logan wouldn't spot him, not at this distance, not when he'd had dozens of surgeries to modify his face since the last time he'd seen him – and not when there was such a pretty lonely girl at the bar.

"You better not be enjoying this." Lincoln let out in his cold-steel voice, and his eyes weren't even set on Kellerman as he addressed to him.

"Come on," Roland answered before Paul could, "would you stop chaperoning? Scofield's not here. Of course we're enjoying this." He let out an appreciative whistle as if to mark his words. "She should have tied her hair up though."

"She's not meat." Paul let out in an impassive voice – it was the best he could do. He kind of felt like pushing that Roland kid in the pool right about now, even though it'd blow their entire cover.

"Ah," Roland ignored him as the target approached to seat next to the young woman. "There we go."

"Which one of us should make the phone call?" Kellerman interrupted – the need to change subject was getting a little urgent. He hadn't exactly planned on watching a man flirt with Sara be tough, he'd heard her do a lot more than flirt himself inside that damn boat cabin, but it didn't make this any easier. At first it felt okay, to tease about it, to send her inside one of his former colleague's room – but she'd taken it so seriously. It was as though it was almost genuinely painful for her. But it couldn't be, of course, else she wouldn't be doing it. She couldn't possibly be willing to add ridiculous sacrifices for her boyfriend to the list, surely she knew that for a relationship to be healthy there's supposed to be a little give and take, not give and give whilst the other part takes it all.

But again, who on earth was he to give relationship advices?

"Dunno." Lincoln shrugged half carelessly, his eyes attentive on the young woman. "It's just meant to tell her the card is copied and she can get the hell out of there. She'll have to improvise from there."

"Improvise?" Paul arched a brow. "We're talking about Sara here."

"Nope." Lincoln said, still not looking at either of them – still not angry above the surface. "We're talking about Sara, you've crossed the line that makes it so you ain't even allowed to say her name."

"You know," Paul began and there was a fair part of anger in his voice now that he hastily concealed – nothing like a smile to do the job. "I'll take this, I deserve it, but I'll take it from her." Through the impassive mask of stone Kellerman saw Lincoln flinch. "You can blame me for all I've done to you, you can hate me 'cause I tried to kill you, because I framed you and participated to the murders of anyone that could have cleared your name, but what I did to Sara? It's her right to resent me, _hers_. So why don't you all stop telling her what she's supposed to do, what she's supposed to feel and just let her deal with her own problems like a big girl, all right?"

"I'm hoping you're not enough of an idiot to think that you know her." Lincoln's eyes were on his interlocutor now as he faced the ex-company agent with green hateful eyes.

"Well, think whatever you want, Burrows, I might be the person to know her best from this entire warehouse." It wasn't just that he'd said it confidently, he'd said it honestly. Lincoln squinted, almost as if he was trying to perceive something tiny and barely perceptible to human eye. "That's right, Burrows, from what I hear your brother isn't half devoted as he seems." There, he'd stop at this, because he didn't want for something he'd said to cause her trouble, because he wanted her to feel like she could still come to him about these things, if she wanted to, even if she'd stated her opinion quite clearly.

"You know nothing about my brother." Lincoln scowled instantly.

"Hey guys…" Roland dared an interruption and both blue and green eyes set on him, not quite yet rid of the intensity of the moment. "Just sayin' that our target's moving."

Paul's eyes immediately flew back to his former colleague Logan, and he wasn't exactly sure if it was relief or anger he felt at the sight of the young redheaded following him.

…

Sara had never been in a place like this before – sure, she'd had quite a few lovers in this time of her life, especially when she was on drugs, and this wasn't the first time she followed a man into his suite, but nothing that came close to this. The man – Logan – seemed to be satisfied at her reaction, in spite of the growing discomfort close to fear inside her stomach, she managed to appear stunned. She had to remind herself not to slip whilst they talked, though – they hadn't exchanged names.

"So," Logan removed the arm he had laced around her shoulders over the thin fabric of the bathrobe, "would you care for a drink?"

Oh boy would she. But more seriously, she'd settle for anything that could buy her some time.

"Sure." She agreed. "Water would be great." If he hadn't noticed that she hadn't touched the martini he'd bought her at the bar, this was a bit more obvious. But again, she didn't really care, this wasn't _really_ happening, she was willing to spill an entirely false tale of woe if it would stall him a little.

His eyes became somewhat questioning at her answer but he nodded nonetheless and disappeared inside the kitchen – how many rooms did this suite have? Sara took advantage of her short reprieve of privacy to straighten the robe on her, closing it with her fist – she felt exposed enough as it was, thank you very much. She heard the card holder pour their drinks in the adjacent room and took the few minutes she had left to check her cell phone. She only sent two words. 'You copying?' The answer came from Roland. 'Yep, you and Logan at third base yet?' She chose not to answer that. She knew from their past experience, copying a Scylla card usually required ten minutes tops; she'd still wait for confirmation of course, but it didn't mean she couldn't feel relieved that she could count her seconds left in this place. She was never really impressed by luxury anyway.

She hastily shoved her cell phone in her purse when Logan emerged from the kitchen with their drinks – she felt Roland's device that was copying the Scylla card wherever it was right now brush against her index and a shiver ran over her. If he caught her she was as good as dead. But fortunately his eyes were far too preoccupied by the body parts her bathrobe revealed to care for her purse and his smile was still just as charmed.

"You were feeling cold?" He wondered – he must have noticed she'd close the robe.

"Oh. Uh – yeah, it's just colder here than by the pool."

"I can turn up the heater if you like."

"That'd be neat." And it would buy her at least thirty seconds, but who's counting?

She bit her lip coyly whilst he busied himself with the heater – she was starting to feel a tiny bit of anxiety now. There hadn't exactly been a topic of conversation earlier at the bar, merely a bit of flirting and the surprised expression on his face when she'd taken his invitation into his suite so soon – now she wasn't sure just how these ten minutes were supposed to go. Well, it had to be at least seven minutes by now, surely she could stall for seven goddamn minutes.

He was already sitting next to her on the sofa by the time she could think of anything to say.

"So," he began in a low tone, "you didn't tell me what you were doing in Vegas."

"Well," she shrugged evasively, "what's everybody doing in Vegas?" She took a sip of the ice water he'd gotten her – mere extra seconds of stalling – as she pursued. "What are you doing in Vegas?"

"Gambling." He shrugged, and she was almost surprised when he lifted his fingers to her shoulder – ever so slightly lowering the bathrobe. "Meeting people."

She swallowed helplessly – she hoped to god he could mistake it for eagerness. She knew she shouldn't turn him down just yet, she'd probably need to find a subtle way about it too – you don't just follow someone into their suite and then go in a hurry unless you're planning something, and she didn't want to draw that kind of intention. She didn't want to ruin Michael's entire mission and chance of freedom because she'd gotten cold feet. She didn't push Logan's hand away and met his eyes cautiously.

"What kind of people?" She asked in a voice she feigned to render casual.

He shrugged again.

"All kinds." His voice was still low and seductive. "I met the most beautiful woman I've ever seen just now."

In any other scenario, she would have been flattered. She felt Logan's hand lowering the fabric of her bathrobe until the sleeve was almost slipping off and she felt a wave of tremendous relief surge through her as her phone vibrated inside her purse – it was done. Logan didn't seem to have heard it though.

"Hum –" She managed, a bit awkwardly. "This, uh – this was probably my boss."

"He's calling you on vacation?"

"Yeah, well, hum – he's rude." She wasn't exactly sure why she was explaining given there wasn't the slightest ounce of curiosity in Logan's voice. "I should still call him back."

"Sure." He nodded. "I'm sure he can wait a few minutes."

She opened her mouth to retort but her voice choked in her throat – he had this look in his eyes, these intonations in his voice… For a few seconds, so shortly, she didn't see the fifth card holder anymore, she didn't see the gorgeous suite around them – for a few seconds she was back to that sunny day, the overwhelming heated afternoon, how smothering the warmth was, inside _his_ office. For a few seconds, Logan's face disappeared and was replaced by the monster of her nightmares, the boogeyman that she had turned into something abstract so that now he was just a thought, just a nightmare haunting and following her wherever she went. For a few seconds, the suite disappeared and was replaced by the old-fashioned office with a wooden desk and yellow walls, and that painting above the door – the two cherubs whose eyes were as if set on her, as if judging her, punishing her by their lack of action – as if teaching her extremely clearly that no higher power will save you.

If he noticed her sudden discomposure he didn't ask if she was okay – she really should have said something, her phone vibrated again, and it was the perfect timing to answer to say that a loved one had died and begin crying. That really sounded like a plan, a lousy one, but better than to remain frozen and silent – but the plan required the capacity to talk. She wished that spark of desire would just fade from his eyes, just for a second so she could put her thoughts back together, just so that his face could become Logan's face and not _his_. Just a few seconds, that's all she needed. The phone stopped vibrating after a few minutes – and the words were still lacking.

…

"She's not answering."

"What a remarkable observation."

"Shut up, both of you." Lincoln spoke loudly, before inferring with a headshake. "She's been in there for too long, something's wrong." Lincoln's eyes turned to Kellerman. "You said there wouldn't be a problem?"

"I know Logan, he'd never coerce anyone into anything." He spoke crudely – he really wasn't in the mood for this either.

"Really?" Lincoln said. "So being a model citizen is what got him a Scylla card, is that it?" A short silence set. "How long has it been since you've seen this guy anyway?"

"The Academy." He answered without hesitating even though Lincoln's face turned to red.

"The _Academy_? Are you even sure you know the guy? You recognized him!"

"Of course I didn't." Kellerman repressed an eye-roll. "We change faces like we change shirts in this job. I recognized his name."

"You what?!"

"It's really useful to argue about this now, fellows." Roland just pointed. "I hate to be a mood-killer but the girl's still in the room, and she's got my device, so…"

"I'll go get her." Paul simply said as he rose, inhaling a sharp breath as Lincoln's hand posed on his shoulder to restrict him. "Get. Your. Hand. Off." He let out as slow as it was clear.

"I don't trust you enough to let this entire mission in your hands as much as I trust you with Sara's life."

"What's your plan, then? You go get her? You're wanted man, Lincoln, if Logan sees your face this entire cover is blown. You think he won't know why we've come after him? You'll ruin all these weeks of working, same for Roland."

"But he knows you."

"Well, trust me if my mother saw me right now, she wouldn't know me." A silence set in which Lincoln appraised him silently – he didn't like this, but he figured he liked the idea of wasting time arguing on this a little less.

"If you do anything, _anything_…" He warned. "I will burn you."

"How very charming of you." Kellerman pulled away from Lincoln's hold dryly, as he exited the room unhurried, proving Lincoln that he didn't worry to receive a bullet in the back of his head. He even felt some kind of serenity as the elevator gates closed onto him.

Go undercover, collect a prize, save the girl… It sounded about right.


End file.
